Golden Carmine
by BrochanInWords
Summary: "Any warlock that sets foot anywhere near you will not only have their powers taken – their soul will surely be damned." Uther gives Arthur a necklace that is said to bind a magic-user's soul to some kind of hell, and unknowingly, Merlin becomes the victim that Arthur has condemned. NO SLASH.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hello, dears! So... This one should be dark, and I know I haven't posted anything for Merlin before, so I suppose I'll find out if anyone likes to read this kind of thing. I mixed the prologue and the first chapter together because they were both relatively short.**

 **Warnings: Like I said, this one should be a darker one, so beware of that...**

 **Disclaimer: I own nothing. Obviously. IownnothingIownnothing except for my own crazy ideas, of course... *Grins***

PROLOGUE

The dining hall had an eerie glow from the candles lining the long table, illuminating the plates and bowls with their many piles of various foods, desserts and drinks. No servants or guards stood by the doors, which Arthur found odd, especially since Uther usually requested one servant be there to refill the chalices. He knew that his father hated this day especially, but it didn't usually make him a shut-in, but more… proactive, historically. Proactive to get rid of magic from Camelot, and sometimes, he even envisioned a world where no magic was practiced. It was All Hallows' Evening, and that never boded well for the Pendragon house. Or anyone else, for that matter.

"Father, you have been quiet this evening." Evening. He cringed inwardly. For whatever reason, that word seemed like the last one he should have used, it would only bring about thoughts of sorcery and witchcraft and all things like it… Uther, from the other side of the table, had been focused on his empty goblet, twisting it around and around. He looked up at the sound of his son's voice,

"Yes. Do you know what day it is?"

Here it came. "Of course."

"I… Cannot die yet."

Arthur was shocked to hear Uther's revelation – and though he wouldn't admit it, a part of him was scared by those words. Was the king dying, had he not told anyone? Was he expecting his life to end soon? "What are you talking about?"

"My life cannot end until I have stopped the use of magic. Until every last witch and wizard has met their end – until I have seen through that no one shall be hurt by sorcery again."

"That's… A good goal, father, but perhaps a subject to sleep on."

Uther looked up, meeting Arthur's blue eyes. His gaze held, as did the prince's, both refusing to look away. "I have something for you. And I want you to promise me, that you will keep it with you always. It will protect you."

The king stood up, procuring something from seemingly thin air. Confused, the young man on the opposite end stood as well, putting down his fork and knife in the process. He swallowed, his mouth feeling unnaturally dry. The king stopped just a foot from him, handing over a small wooden box. There were engravings on it, the likes of which he had never seen – upon closer inspection, he saw that they were small skulls, ivy vines and black-painted butterflies pouring through the empty eye sockets and nostrils, even from between the teeth and ears. He frowned and looked up at his father, who only gestured for his heir to take a look inside. He opened it, his eyes laying on the only object inside –

A thick, black chain was wound up on red velvet padding, and attached to the necklace was a small pendent. The stone in the center was as black as a starless night, and surrounding it was the metal hand, its long fingers wrapping around every side of the stone as though the hand had an endless amount of scorched phalanges. Arthur looked up to his father again, feeling not unlike a child waiting for instruction.

"Put it over your neck." But before Arthur could do just that, Uther took the chain and widened it, going to place it over his son's skull. The prince bowed his head as the stone came to rest on his chest, feeling more like a feather than anything. The longer he stared at it, the more unsettled he became, a hole growing in the pit of his stomach. "It will protect you, my son."

"Father, I don't understand!" His voice grew urgent.

"Any warlock that sets foot anywhere near you will not only have their powers taken – their soul will surely be damned."

Arthur gulped. No, he didn't like the sound of it, not one bit. For whatever reason, only unease settled inside of him, not comfort nor security. "I can't take this."

"You must."

He remembered visiting the Catholic Church on Sabbath as a child – there was no way he would take part in the condemning of another man's soul. Quickly, he grabbed the necklace and tried to tear it off, feeling more sure about this action than almost any he had taken before. His father's hands shot out like lightening, gripping his own, sending a chill down Arthur's spine,

"You will wear it always. That is an order, from your king."

Ice froze Arthur's veins. He bowed, but his heart wasn't in it. "Yes, my lord."

He excused himself and left hastily; he wanted no part in this, but he had no choice. He would not disobey his father – the king.

 _CHAPTER ONE_

The sword gave one last, and quite punctual if Merlin might add, hit to his helmet. His muscles spasmed, giving out on him and with the force of Arthur's blow, he was sent sprawling to the ground with the realization that his back was going to be covered in bruises later. No, not just his back, his whole body would be just one big bruise. He groaned out loud, not bothering to mute it in any way.

"Come on, Merlin, is that the best you can do?"

The warlock made a face beneath the helmet and lifted his head just high enough to see the prince, "You ask that at least once a day, sire, and if you weren't such an over-inflated lout you would have realized the answer by now." Arthur laughed, the noise mocking as he turned away, seeming to be looking for someone to share in a joke at Merlin's expense. The servant found this to be the perfect opportunity, and with what little strength he had left he raised one booted foot and kicked the back of Arthur's knee. The man lost his balance and dropped with choked yelp, one arm shooting out in order to keep him from falling over completely.

"Merlin!" he yelled at the top of his lungs. Yeah, this would be the time to run. Merlin twisted around and started running before he was even standing, his feet treading the soft grass and leaving clumps of the greenery upturned. As he moved he tore off pieces of the armor, leaving him in his usual attire with metal pieces scattered on the ground behind him. Arthur shouted from several feet away, "Get back here!"

"I don't fancy it," Merlin called over his shoulder. "Maybe when you calm down, Sire!"

"Calm down? I'll show you calm!" The prince was gaining ground on him with every passing second. Merlin's heart thundered in his chest, pounding to the sound of their footsteps.

"That's really not selling it-…" Merlin's voice dropped off with a grunt when the other man tackled him to the grass, leaving him throbbing even more than he had been previously. "Aowh!" he cried, his expression morphing from pain. He tried to collect his spindly arms under his chest, only to have Arthur grab one and twist it around onto his back, and pin the other down with his knee. "Arthur!" Merlin choked, his tone full of complaint. "Stop!"

"Not until… You apologize!" Arthur used his free hand to shove Merlin's face into the grass. He spat out a green blade of it, huffing and puffing as he struggled for freedom.

"I don't apologize to… prats. Get off, you're heavier than a whale!"

If anything, Merlin's predicament became more difficult after that last comment. He wanted very much to use magic to throw the man off him, but that had to be one of his worse ideas… His back flared in agony, making him splutter on reflex. "Arthur," he started, his voice dropping into a quiet tone, "You're hurting me."

At that, the weight vanished and he was being pulled up by the back of his jacket. "Could you be more pathetic?" he jeered at his manservant with a grin.

Merlin frowned.

Arthur's grin turned into a forced smile and he rolled his eyes, placing a gloved hand on the nape of Merlin's neck and pulling him forward, throwing that arm over the warlock's shoulders. "I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings, _Mer_ lin. Even if there are too many of them as it is."

"I doubt that," Merlin grumbled, pulling himself out of the other man's grasp. He began picking up the armor, a frustrated look on his face, but he did his duties in silence. Dutifully.

Arthur looked somewhat disappointed by Merlin's response. He sighed. "When you're done with the armor, I have a letter I need delivered to nobleman Edmond."

"Yes sire."

Not even a snarky comment? Or teasing tone? Arthur quirked an eyebrow. "Don't be such a woman's hoop skirt, I said I was sorry."

Merlin ignored the comment, focusing solely on getting the armor back to the armory, and in the process leaving Arthur standing alone in the training field.

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With a sigh, Merlin walked away from the nobleman's house, making his way back through the streets and toward the castle. He had to take care of the prince's last needs, which would be his dinner – actually, no, he was going to be eating with Uther – so that meant just a change of clothes, and then he would be done. Unless, that was, Gaius had something else for him to do. Oh, how he hoped not, not today at least. The walk through the town was relatively short, considering his pace, and he took through the courtyard at a run, and the same for the stairs. He started navigating his way through the hallways, up to the royal's room.

He stopped abruptly when he heard the voice of the king. He was about to keep going when another voice joined that of Uther's, one that he didn't recognize. He ducked behind a wall and turned his head, straining to hear. One of these days he was going to be caught snooping, but, it was just a habit that he couldn't break, after all of the times he had been needed to stop some disaster because of what he overheard.

"I need more of them."

"Are you sure? Because…"

"Yes, I am quite sure. If you're correct about there being sorcerers hidden inside of our walls, we need to remedy that. I won't stand for it."

"The price will be high for that many, my lord."

"I am willing to pay any amount. If this works, not only will we be rid of their magic, but… Did you hear that?"

Merlin's heart leapt to his throat. They knew he was there. With that, he scurried away, arms full of Arthur's laundry as he hurried down the corridors and prayed that he hadn't been seen. He burst into Arthur's room, upsetting the prince from what appeared to be a thoughtful state. The royal glared at him, but said nothing about his surprise entrance. The warlock busied himself with folding the clothes and tucking them away in their designated places, all the while wondering back on the king's conversation. What exactly was he buying that could 'get rid' of sorcerers? He would talk to Gaius about it later, see if the physician could query the king about it.

"What's gotten your trousers in knots?" Arthur asked from his place behind his writing desk.

"Do you know anything about the king figuring out how to rid Camelot of sorcerers?"

Arthur's expression morphed into one that Merlin had never seen before. He stopped what he was doing, holding his breath as the prince worked through whatever thoughts were running through his head. The prince rose from his chair and moved around the desk.

"I don't know where you heard that, but I don't want you to bring it up again." Arthur sounded mad – not just that, but something near livid. Merlin swallowed and put a hand up in surrender, saying,

"I just overheard someone talking about it. Is it something you don't agree with?" Merlin felt hope simmer in his chest at the thought of that.

"Merlin. Don't. This isn't a matter for the likes of you."

"Sorry," Merlin's voice changed and he rose his eyebrows, going back to folding clothes, "I was just wondering."

Arthur sighed, a bone-deep exhaustion and weight that visibly pushed his shoulders down. Merlin looked at him with sincere concern.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes, Merlin. When you finish with that, you may have the rest if the night off."

The manservant finished with the last group of clothes and turned to fully face the prince. "Will you be fine on your own? You don't look well, sire."

"Leave."

Merlin bowed slightly, his hands clasped behind his back. "If it's worth anything, you are not your father. You are Arthur, and that is most important - as are you."

Arthur didn't turn around from where he stared out the window, but as soon as Merlin stepped out, he glanced over his shoulder at the door, a strange expression on his face. He closed his eyes and just tried to breathe.

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The young warlock collapsed onto his bed, his body in peril. Oh, how he just wanted a little bit of peace... Blessedly, he had a good ten hours of sleep to look forward. He drifted off to sleep, oblivious to the golden colored blood running from his nose and seeping into his pillow.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thank you for the support, I'm glad some are enjoying this! Enjoy.**

Merlin's dream subsided as he woke, leaving him feeling drained and… wrong, somehow. As if he had been in a completely different world, reality, and just had begun dreaming, and not the other way around. It was disconcerting to say the least. The man drew himself up into a sitting position, blinking until his eyes cleared. He started thinking of everything he would have to do this day, including any extra work Gaius may have him do… Until, that was, he saw the blood. It covered his hands, his pillow, even his arms in red-brown smudges and pools. He shot up from the bed, his arms held away from his body as he stared at them in shock. Quickly, he grabbed the closest reflective object and peered at his reflection – his face was covered in dried blood. Shock made his mouth feel full of cotton.

He shook off his unease and moved to the bucket of water on the other side of his room, splashing the liquid over his face and his arms, scrubbing until the flakes began to come off. The stress was probably getting to him. He had a bad nose bleed when he was ten, nearly scared his mother to death. He took his pillow and crammed it into the bucket, wringing and washing it out as best he could. He flipped it onto its other side before putting it onto the bed, then dressed himself for the day.

Merlin all but skipped into the next room, trying to put energy into his step. Usually, it came naturally to him, but not today. Today, he felt exhausted to his very core. Gaius was already sitting at the main table eating his breakfast, and it appeared as though Merlin's meal had been set out for some time. He winced. That meant he was most likely late for work, too, which meant Arthur was going to be even harder to deal with than usual…

"Long night?" Gaius asked, looking unimpressed by the boy's frazzled appearance. Merlin pursed his lips and deposited himself on the opposite seat, already starting to shovel food into his mouth.

"More like long day, short night."

"Ah."

The warlock finished his breakfast and stood, thanking the man before hurrying off to begin what was already set to be a long, long day. The walk down the corridors left him feeling ill and sore, which was odd, but he tried to sum it up to too much stress. Yes, that had to be it. He was always under quite a bit of pressure. Because he really, really didn't want to get one of the illnesses going around at this time, although he had only had one or two before, they had been unpleasant experiences and ones he wished never to repeat…

When he arrived at the prince's quarters with the man's breakfast, he nearly passed out. His head was spinning, and he just felt overall… awful. He would ask Gaius for something to help him when he finished with his chores. When he entered the room, he saw that Arthur was already awake – and partially dressed, but struggling to pull on his tunic. Merlin set the plate down onto the table and moved to the royal, helping tug down the material over his head. Arthur huffed, annoyed,

"Where have you been?"

"I guess I overslept."

"You guess?" Arthur fumed, "I've been waiting for breakfast since the sun came up!"

"You never get up that early." Merlin watched as the man made his way to the table, sitting down and beginning his meal.

"I couldn't sleep. Merlin, I need you to inform my father that I won't be able to make it to the dining hall this evening, I have things to catch up on and will be taking supper in my room."

Merlin didn't refrain from sighing. "I assume this means I'll be working late?"

Arthur didn't dignify that with a response. The manservant went about to tidying the room, redoing the blankets and preparing himself for the task that was dog-walking. "Oh," Arthur started, "also, after you finish with my dogs, I need you to join me in the training field. Bring the new pell from the supplies – Sir Eker destroyed the last one."

"Of course."

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He felt as though his arms would rip right out of their sockets. Merlin ground his teeth and planted his heels in the grass, doing his best to reign in the two Alaunts, both of them seemingly determined to make his day even worse than it had been. The dogs pulled on the chains, their short, curled tails wagging in the air and tongues lolling out as they stared at a rabbit several yards away, each of them taking turns barking. "No – bad. Dogs!" Merlin panted, his arms quivering as the creatures gave them each another tug, all hundred pounds suddenly thrust upon his individual limbs.

With one last tug from the animals, he found himself chasing after them, barely holding onto their leashes. Merlin felt heat rising into his ears – Arthur could see him from the training grounds, no doubt, being pulled around by the two Alaunts. He closed his eyes, exhaustion pressing behind them liking a headache that wouldn't go away. He wasn't sure how he was going to survive this day…

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The pell had to weigh as much as he did. Merlin struggled to draw in breath, his entire body quaking by this point. Arthur laughed from where he stood, watching his servant struggle. Merlin did his best to ignore the prince and his knights, who appeared to be having quite an entertaining time seeing his plight. No one would offer to help, no, he was just a lowly servant…

Then, suddenly, the world vanished into darkness and red spots. He doubled over, not sure if he had fallen or not – the pell fell onto his back when he hit the ground, and he was sure he heard his spine pop. His side exploded in pain. He scrambled, only to realize the training equipment had pinned him down, and he wasn't sure he had the strength in him now to push it off. Instead he breathed a sigh, thinking just how wonderful it would be to just get some sleep now…

Merlin groaned when the weight lifted off his back, but still, the discomfort stuck with him. He was rolled over and only then did he decide to open his eyes, finding himself staring up at prince Arthur. Great. Now he was just in for more mockery, as if this hadn't been hard enough. The royal pulled up Merlin's tunic without any warning. The warlock yelped in retaliation, trying to fight off the other man, but ended up letting his head drop back against the grass in defeat. He was just too tired.

"Looks like you bruised a rib. I knew you were a klutz, but you've been acting off since yesterday. What's wrong with you?"

Merlin couldn't decide if he heard concern or disbelieving ridicule. Knowing Arthur, it was the latter. "Uh…" he moaned, rolling onto his side and trying to catch his breath. Arthur sighed heartily and hauled the younger man onto his feet, gripping his biceps to keep him from falling back over,

"If you're sick you need to tell me."

"It's nothing, sire." _I've had worse_. He kept that last bit to himself.

"Good grief – if you're not well, you can't hide it from me. A half-dead servant is of no use to me."

No use. Merlin felt a pang of annoyance, followed soon after by discouragement. "Well if I'm just useable to you, you royal prat, then you shouldn't worry. I'll do my job." He shook off the prince and picked himself up again, as he always did, putting the pieces back together. He would survive the day, he knew it. He was strong. Ignoring the honest-to-God surprise on his master's face, as well as the other knights, he picked up the pell again and began dragging it into place. Sweat dripped from his forehead and into his eye, stinging, and he squinted to lessen the feeling. When he set it in its proper place, he felt accomplishment swell in his chest. At least he had proved Arthur wrong, that was enough of a comfort to give him reason to keep going despite the feeling under his skin.

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Hours had passed since that incident, and Arthur had all but forgotten about it. In his chambers, his thoughts swirled like a storm, revolving around his father and the stone that pressed against his chest. It was an indescribable weight. He should never have accepted the gift, but, he didn't have a choice – at least that's what he told himself. There had been no option. Merlin was doing, well, Arthur wasn't sure what he was doing by this point, he didn't pay much attention to him. With a sigh the prince placed a hand on the chain resting around his neck. He wanted to take it off, he did, but at the same time a voice told him to leave it be. So he listened to it.

"Arthur?"

He turned around, "What?"

"Is there anything else you require?"

"No, you've done enough today. And Merlin…" he paused, looking torn as to whether or not he actually wanted to say what was going on in his head, "what you did on the training grounds, that was… Well, it wasn't impressive. And I certainly could never respect you for anything, you're just bloody awful…"

Sometime during Arthur's rambling, Merlin had started smiling. It was a weak smile, granted, but it was there nonetheless. Arthur felt some successful at gaining that kind of reaction, though he would never admit it.

"Thanks."

Arthur snorted and Merlin laughed briefly. The servant bowed, about to take his leave, when Arthur spoke again,

"Actually, stay. I would appreciate someone to talk to. Even someone as air-headed as yourself."

"That's thick. Kind of like you." Merlin's eyes sparkled mischievously.

"You…" Arthur shook his head and huffed. There was a beat of silence to follow, but it wasn't uncomfortable. It was calm, if anything. "I know you're tired, Merlin. You've done well today. Get some rest."

Merlin didn't argue with that. He was gone before Arthur could say 'for Camelot'. The young prince deposited himself onto his bed and snuffed out the candle, staring at the window distantly. There would be no sleep this night either, he could tell already. He would stay up, thinking and overthinking…

Something glowed from under the blankets and he nearly flew off the bed in surprise. He shoved the blankets off himself and stared at the thing hanging from around his neck – the previously black stone had wisps of gold, swirling at the bottom of the black gem. His heart sank. The king had been right. Someone in Camelot did have magic; and not just someone, but someone that lived in the castle with them, someone that he spoke to on a daily basis. He swallowed his betrayal and mulled over every idea, every thought on who it could possibly be…

He would find out, whatever it took, and they would pay for their secret - with their soul.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: So this one is a bit of a... doozy. *laughs* I hope you enjoy - it is a bit jumpy, but that was the effect I wanted, if you hadn't noticed that from the other chapters. Thank you!**

Merlin retched. He wasn't sure how much more of this he could take – between Gaius, Arthur, the knights and whatever illness he had picked up in the last week or two, he was sore, bruised, sick, and felt just all around… awful. Yet, he still had things to do today, and no one seemed to care that he wasn't feeling well. Of course. He made a face and bit the inside of his lower lip, all bounce gone from his step, his shoulders sagging and his eyelids drooping as he dutifully marched from the chamber pot, his stomach still roiling from the vomiting. Arthur was no doubt already at the feast and angry that his servant was not there to refill his goblet.

Great.

When he arrived, music from the bards overpowered his hearing. He hissed and put the palms of his hands against his ears, desperately trying to block out some of the noise. His head _hurt_. This was going to be one of his worse days, wasn't it? He sighed and made his way to standing behind the prince.

Judging by the way Arthur leaned back and grabbed the front of his shirt, tugging him forward until the prince could whisper in his ear – his previous thought had been correct. He pursed his lips and shook his head slightly, poorly hidden annoyance on his expression. "You're. Late."

"Maybe because I think you and Gaius are actually killing me, ever think about that?"

"Good riddance," Arthur snapped, giving his servant a small shove. Merlin's expression remained irritated. He knew the prince didn't mean these things – actually, no, he didn't know. Arthur meant quite a few of them. In Merlin's tired, ill state he imagined that the royal even meant _all_ of them. Which was… disheartening to say the least, as if he hadn't felt bad enough already.

As the feast went on, Merlin grew sicker and sicker. He felt as though he would start blowing chunks again, but, because he hadn't eaten, it would probably be blowing bile, if that was a saying. Something pushed its way up his throat, making him queasier. He couldn't take any more of this, he had to rest. Moving forward, he placed one hand on Arthur's shoulder and leaned down, almost throwing up on the royal's plate of food. That would have been embarrassing, not to mention all around terrible. "Arthur," he began, struggling to even bring in even, steady breaths, "something's wrong. May I have the night off?"

The prince frowned at him, turning his head to meet cerulean eyes, "What are you going on about?"

"I've been throwing up all day. I need to see Gaius."

Arthur's nose wrinkled. "All right, you may take the night off." Merlin didn't wait for Arthur to change his mind, he immediately spun and headed for the exit until the other man snatched his arm. "Have Gaius come see me after." If Merlin hadn't known any better, he would have thought that Arthur looked concerned. Merlin bobbed his head and then hurried off, doing his best not to start dry heaving.

He burst into the physician's chambers before he dropped, his head connecting with the stone floor. He didn't know anything else.

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He dreamt of fire. It raged all around him, searing his flesh and charring his bone – he was in a wasteland of death - skeletons and screams surrounded him and there was no end. There was only torment, and flames. What had he done to deserve this?

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Merlin gasped and shot upright, trembling and sweating. He was in his bed, the moon shone through the open window and… all was calm. He wasn't… there, anymore. The burning had stopped. The screams died off. His skin was… he had to check, just to make sure, and once he had thrown the blankets off himself and tugged his shirt over his head, his hands running over his own chest, he found himself intact.

It had just been a dream, it had all been a dream.

His stomach clenched and he scrambled for the chamber pot, choking as he moved. He landed on his knees and retched, his skin crawling on his bare back. Between heaves he gasped and shuddered, sobs shaking his thin frame. It _hurt_. His head hurt. His chest hurt. His stomach hurt, his lungs hurt, his throat burned, and memories of the dream flashed in front of his eyes. Out of nowhere, strong hands gripped his shoulders as someone sat down behind him. He leaned back, gasping, assuming the form was that of Gaius – he put his weight against the other man, fighting the sickness as it swept through him over and over.

"What's happening to me?" He breathed through his nose, only to exhale through his mouth.

"Gaius doesn't think it's a virus."

Merlin's blood froze. That voice was… Arthur? He lunged forward, adrenaline pumping through his veins. He collapsed only a moment later, this time facing the young prince and gaping all the while.

"Don't look so surprised, Merlin. I don't want to have to draw my own bath to-morrow, that's all there is to it. Plus, you smell like you could use a bath of your own. You smell bloody awful."

"I…" That was the point he would have said something sarcastic, but, he couldn't think of anything. His head felt full of cotton. Instead, he opted for a quaking nod. Another wave of nausea hit and Merlin curled in on himself, wishing the feeling would go away, that he could just get back to his life without feeling as though he would throw up at any given moment. A blanket was draped over him and he looked up in confusion, meeting Arthur's gaze.

"Gaius says you must stay warm."

"Ah," the warlock replied, sounding nearly as empty-headed as Arthur always claimed he was.

Something shifted inside of the young servant. It was as though a rift had been torn through his chest, and he would have cried out in pain, had not the shock stolen his voice. Arthur didn't seem to notice this change, he went on oblivious. The rift grew wider, an indescribable havoc being reaped on his soul. When he found his voice once more, he said,

"Get Gaius."

"You can't be telling me what to do, Merl –…"

"Get Gaius."

The man stood up, looking unnerved by the version of his servant that he now saw. He stepped towards the door, stopped only by another noise – a sound like tearing cloth and breaking bones at the same time, and it came from inside his friend. Arthur's jaw tightened and he sucked in a breath to yell, only to once again be stopped short. Gaius wasn't there, was he? When the thought occurred to him, his heart sank. He had no idea what was happening or what to do, and the only person that did was out gathering herbs.

Merlin's eyes shone bright gold and he screamed, writhing on the floor. All thoughts of fetching Gaius went out the window as Arthur stared, dazed.

Merlin gasped in a ragged breath. He didn't know what was going on, Arthur knew, oh Poseidon, Arthur knew, he knew, he knew now and there was something wrong with Merlin and he couldn't stop crying out and he couldn't explain it, he couldn't explain himself and his magic and he was failing his destiny and this was all, all wrong…

"You."

The single word rattled Merlin to his bones.

He thought he was suffocating.

 _No, no, please, no…_

Arthur was backing up, nearly tripping over the staircase in the process. His lips were parted as though he wanted to say something but couldn't get the words out past his betrayal.

"Arthur, please," Merlin choked, crawling forward only to have to stop, gagging on reflex before dry heaving. "I can explain," he managed between bouts, "It's not what it seems. Please!"

"You. It was you."

With that, the prince left, not hearing Merlin's last desperate calls.

He left Merlin alone, dying in the abandoned back room.

The boy curled forward, his forehead coming to rest against the stone, his façade crumbling to pieces around him. He thumped a fist against the floor, his breath coming in wet, strained gasps.

It wasn't supposed to happen like this.


	4. Chapter 4

**Guest review replies:**

 **Doyouseewhatisee: Thank you so much, I'm glad you enjoy it! *Grins***

 **JCR: Yes, but I hope it's bad in a good way... Plus, it will get better, everything does eventually! :D**

 **A/N: Thank you all for the wonderful feedback, you're too kind as always. Enjoy! Small, but somewhat important detail, this is slightly AU as when Morgana betrayed them, Uther didn't retreat into a shell, at least, not completely. Carry on...**

Arthur moved down the hallways in a dazed state. He wasn't sure what to think - his mind was catching up with the reality around him, nor did it want to. Merlin had magic. He had known the man for how long, three years? He had been Arthur's servant, his... friend. He swallowed, his lips parted as he wandered down the corridors. How could he have been so blind, for so long? Had the young man always been doing _that_? Had he been hiding intentions all along, had he been spreading evil through Camelot? Had he picked up that particular *skill* later on? How much did Merlin know that the young prince did not?

His heart dropped into his stomach as a rock might, leaving him feeling as though he had gained another weight pressing down on him. He had to tell Uther, but at the same time, it felt wrong to do so. He hated that feeling, he hated having so much responsibility on his shoulders, a responsibility that always seemed to suck the life out of any relationships or enjoyments he had. But Merlin had betrayed him. He deserved to die. The king would most likely opt for pyre, seeing it as a more fitting punishment, considering just how long Merlin had hidden his secret and how close he had been to the monarchs all of that time. Despite himself, Arthur felt wretched. He knew it was right. His father was just and wise, and he would rule the most appropriate sentence.

But then again, Arthur had already done that, hadn't he?

The pendant.

His stomach flipped upside down, causing him to stop in his tracks. He leaned back against one of the large columns, breathing noisily through his nose. His teeth clacked together, jaw muscles working as he tried to fight through some invisible war. That was why Merlin had been sick for the past week - ever since Uther had given him that stone, and he should have noticed that sooner. He had realized that something was wrong with his servant, he had just never made the connection. He never made the connections, but they had been there all along. The random and convenient falling trees, re-lighting torches, rockfalls, mist, blasts of wind... He had been such a fool. There had been every sign, and he had ignored each and every one of them, assuming that fate had actually been on his side for once. Arthur really, really should have known better, his father had always warned he and Morgana of the evils they would see from magic, and what they should be on the lookout for.

He should have known.

Even after Morgana's betrayal...

He was a fool. A seed of self-loathing planted in the pit of Arthur's gut, leaving him feeling even worse than he had been. He made his way to his chambers and locked himself inside, leaning back against the door and sliding to the ground, his arms resting on his lap. Why had he ever trusted that man? Because he was honest. He was impartial. He was caring. He was an idiot. He was clumsy. He was a terrible, terrible fighter and a quick learner and had a very annoying, yet amusing sense of humor and there had been no real sign that he was a sorcerer, evil to his very core, because by nature magic-users were evil. He hadn't seen that in Merlin. He had protected him and befriended him - no, it had been the other way around, in truth. Maybe out of necessity, because Uther had been the one to make Merlin his manservant, and before then they had despised each other. He remembered feeling shocked and... almost impressed by the man's selfless actions during the feast, when that witch had nearly killed him with her dagger. He remembered thinking there was just something off about the boy who stood up to him, the one person who didn't seem to see the lines between royalty and peasantry.

Merlin had shown bravery on countless occasions. He was willing to die for anyone he thought worth it; he had been willing to die for Arthur, he had even nearly done so multiple times. He had found armies and witches and a dragon and sorcerers and beasts by Arthur's side, even as a servant. He wasn't just a servant though, was he? He was a sorcerer himself, which would explain where his courage came from. Then why? Just... why?

He was still the one that tripped over his own two feet - or was he? Had it all been an act?

Merlin couldn't have been the idiot that Arthur was so sure he was. It was impossible to reconcile that now, with the new realization he had, the new truth. The truth. The truth was a cold, ruthless thing that both gave life and took it. It healed and hurt. For this once, he wasn't sure he wanted to know the truth, perhaps Merlin's secret would have been better if it had continued being just that; secret.

Arthur thumped his head back against the wooden door, wishing that for once, he wasn't the one that had to make the hardest decisions. But some things would never change. That was a part of him, and he wondered, had Merlin ever had to make a decision like this? All of the things Arthur had said, the way he had treated him for so long, and... and he was more powerful than Arthur. In the end, he was smarter and braver than just about anyone Arthur knew, because he hadn't run. He had stayed, putting his life in danger every day, hiding his secret and... surviving just out of eyesight, somehow. He had protected Arthur. He had risked everything... for the prince, and now, he was dying because of it.

Merlin was going to die.

Because Arthur was ignorant, and he couldn't stand up to his father.

Arthur had made every mistake, and now a friend was going to die because of it. Because of him. A good man was going to die, and not just that, his soul was going to be... condemned to some kind of 'Hell'. Arthur didn't even know what it meant, but memories of sermons at the church came flooding back to him, warnings of eternal fire and pain and the greatest fear anyone could have ever imagined or known.

Merlin had still lied and deceived. He had betrayed Arthur, but the royal was willing to give him a chance to explain himself.

Arthur stood, mustering his strength. He could meet any challenge, he always had, and he always would.

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When he arrived at the physician's chambers some odd hours later, it took quite a bit of work to just get the door open. Inside, Gaius, Gwen and Merlin were eating at their meager table. Could a powerful sorcerer really be content with so little? Arthur filed it away for things to ask later. Merlin was wrapped in a wool blanket, shivering even despite that. His shoulders sagged and he stared emptily at the soup in front of him, his eyes having no gleam, no spark, no... Merlin. Both Gaius and Gwen looked up at him, watching him, waiting for him to do whatever he came to do. Gaius looked somehow angry, sad and disappointed all at the same time. Something inside of Arthur shrank, hiding away from that look. Gwen, though, seemed to know nothing of what had happened, and Merlin? Merlin hadn't looked up from his food. Arthur wasn't sure the servant even knew someone had come inside.

"Gaius, Gwen. I need to speak with Merlin."

Merlin jumped at the voice and shied away, making Arthur feel even worse, if that was even possible by this point. Gwen put a hand on the young man's shoulder and rubbed his back gently, giving him a comforting smile. "Feel better, Merlin." With that, she stood and walked towards the door, squeezing Arthur's bicep as she passed by. He couldn't even manage to give her a smile.

Gaius, on the other hand, was not so willing to leave. He quirked an eyebrow at the prince. "What is it you need to discuss?"

"It's a private matter."

"About magic."

Arthur's eyes bulged, "So you knew-!? Of course you knew." With a sigh, Arthur came forward, hoping to see some reaction on Merlin's face, but there was none. Gaius stood, eyeing Arthur warily but exiting the room nonetheless.

Arthur waited until the physician was gone and the door had been closed. He sighed and lowered himself onto the seat opposite of Merlin's.

"Where are the guards." It didn't sound like a question, it wasn't posed like one, but Arthur assumed that his lack of expression had just made its way to his voice as well.

"I'm not here to persecute you. I'm here for an explanation."

At that, Merlin met his eyes, and Arthur could have sworn there was a _sparkle_ of hope there. "...Really?"

"Yes, really. Don't be an idiot. Just get on with it before I change my mind."

"I was born with it. With magic. I didn't want to lie to you, it's just, after a while, it seemed like it was the only thing I could do. Every path you took and everything I did just led to more deceit, and for that, I'm sorry. I'm... really sorry for that, Arthur. But I'm not sorry for anything else, and you have to understand that. I won't, I can't, and I never would get rid of my gift. That's probably what you want, but it's never going to happen. And I... know you have to tell your father, but one day, when you are king, I hope that things will be different. You are the Once and Future King, who will unite the lands. You can give freedom to people like me. Perhaps one day you will see why I've done the things that I have done."

Arthur paused, astounded by the words and the absolute truth that came from Merlin's mouth. He stared for far too long, an uncomfortable silence following.

"...Who are you?"

Merlin smiled. "Your servant. I am who I am and that's never going to change - you know me, Arthur. Me. Just not everything about me."

"I feel like... I've barely scratched the surface. I thought I really knew you - I thought we were..." Arthur bit his lip and looked away. He was going to sound foolish for saying it, but he would say it anyway - his voice grew grave, "we were friends."

"We are." Merlin met his eyes. "Although, the druids call me Emrys. Emrys is the one you know nothing about."

Arthur paused in thought, trying to get past his boiling pride. "Then tell me about him."

"He is... magic. I am magic. Some say, the most powerful warlock to ever live."

Arthur stood, pacing until his legs felt like they would give out. Something built in his throat, blocking his voice. He wanted to speak, but he couldn't, and every time he tried it simply came out as... noise.

"Please say something."

"What is there to say? I can't..." He struggled again, this time it became visible in the way he moved and in his face. "You are magic?" Suddenly, everything else dropped away. His skin went cold. Merlin frowned at the reaction,

"What's wrong? Other than, well..."

"You, Merlin." He ran a hand through his hair. "My father gave me a pendant, he said it would protect me. That was a week ago. When you began getting sick. I didn't make the connection, I couldn't imagine, I never thought you... That you had..."

Merlin's adams apple bobbed as he swallowed, but he didn't look away.

"I'm killing you, Merlin. I've killed you." He was talking to a dead man. He felt sick. In a quick action he pulled the stone from around his neck and from where it was beneath his shirt, staring at the pendant. It was no longer black, or even partially black. Gold had swam inside the gem, and it was strangely hypnotizing. "I've done this."

"You... You're the reason this is happening to me?" It was Merlin's turn for anger, of that Arthur was sure. The young man stood up, nearly falling over in the process and causing the blanket to fall off of his thin frame. "I'm dying." His blue eyes landed on the stone and somehow, his already pale skin went several shades whiter, nearing grey. "My magic. You... my magic."

Merlin's breathing became labored. He looked towards the candle that flickered on the table and stretched out a hand - Arthur flinched. He had almost forgotten what this was all about. "Baernan." His eyes glowed and the candle light jumped, but only the length of an inch. This reaction seemed to upset the warlock further and he took a strained breath, shoving his hand forward as though that would somehow change the outcome, "Forbaernan!" This time, the fire barely twitched more than its normal movement. "My magic," he choked, tears in his voice, "I can't... it's gone. It's gone."


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Timeline: It has been about 10-18 months since Morgana's betrayal. This story starts on Samhain/All Hallows Eve a month or so after Morgana's take-over and defeat, before the Dorocha attack the following year.**

 **Thank you Signal27 for your help with the timeline, I am grateful, you made my life that much easier! A public thank you to Signal27, who has a gracious heart.**

 **Guest review replies:**

 **Guest: Thank you for reading and the feedback. :)**

Merlin worried his lip and wrung his hands together, resting his arms over his bent knees. He sat in an empty field, his back up against the rough bark of a tree as he stared at Camelot's winding spires. Everything was falling apart, as the seams on a curtain being slowly undone. Sometimes, he imagined his life was nothing more than an extravagant story told and sung by minstrels, because that, that was simpler. It didn't require the real pain, sweat, blood and tears of a living, breathing being. But that was a fleeting thought.

He felt physically better today, and he could pretend for a moment that he wasn't... That he wasn't dying. The dying part wasn't even what was hard, the pain wasn't even that difficult for him to bear, - it was the waiting as he counted every heart beat and breath, wondering all the while when they would stop. Which second would be the last?

His horse gave him a nudge and he drew an arm up to pet her soft nose. When she nuzzled his cheek gently, it brought a smile to his face. He redirected her head and thumped the back of his skull against the tree, staring out at the castle. He clacked his teeth together, keeping his thoughts from pouring outside of him. He wasn't as pitiful as Arthur had once thought he was - he never had been, and he would show it now, because he wasn't afraid to die. He wasn't afraid. That was what he told himself, over and over again as a mantra in his head, and he felt in deep in his heart, but his stomach still flipped and his heart still sped whenever the realization struck him. Maybe there was a way to reverse it, but for some reason, he couldn't feel it. His gut denied him that hope. Instead, his soul offered the hope that this could change Arthur's entire outlook, he could be the best king that Britain had known. Fair, just.

That was something Merlin would gladly die for.

Hoof steps brought his attention to the present and he looked, watching the hill expectantly. It was Arthur, no doubt. No one else would be looking for him at such an unholy hour - ever since Merlin's frustrated outburst in the physician's chambers, the prince had been acting off. At least off for him. No doubt he was still working through the whole idea of his servant having magic - and dying, because of something he unknowingly did. Merlin gave no reaction when he saw Arthur and his steed coming toward him and up the hill, coming to a jerking stop just a few feet away. Arthur dismounted and flung the reins over his horse's neck before approaching the young servant.

"Merlin, good. I've been looking all over for you."

"I think this is the earliest you've ever gotten out of bed, sire," Merlin joked with a half-hearted smile.

"This is no time for jokes." A somber Arthur came towards him, crouching by his left. "I am going to fix this. But after I do, you have to leave Camelot."

"What?" Merlin's voice grew louder, "You can't banish me. Without me, you will die in a week! You have no idea how many disasters I have averted, just how many sacrifices I've made so you can live and become king, so you can bring about a free land, a land where the likes of me are safe!" With what energy he had, he leaned forward, almost sitting on his legs as he did. Twisted in the spider-like position, he grabbed the front of Arthur's red tunic with one hand, "I'm not leaving you."

"You're worried about your... people, but gods forbid, I have a duty to tell the truth to the king. I have to tell him about your magic."

"It's not like I have magic anymore," Merlin snapped through barred teeth, but Arthur carried on,

"...And despite everything, despite the lies, I still consider you a friend. I won't see a friend executed."

Merlin pushed Arthur out of the way and stood, turning to his horse as if to mount and leave. He paused, gripping a lose piece of leather on the saddle and fiddling with it. "If I weren't a friend? Would you see me killed then? Even now that you know the truth about me, about Emrys? I never chose to be this way, but you would have me executed anyway."

"No!" Arthur sighed and turned sideways, working through his thoughts and biting his tongue until he could come up with the correct words. "I am just trying to protect you. I am trying to do the right thing."

Merlin swallowed whatever feelings that had risen inside of him. He nodded. "I know. But I won't leave."

"Why ever not?"

"You already know why."

Arthur shook his head and stared at the back of Merlin's head. "It won't ever cease to amaze me the lengths you, and someone with your... abilities would go for the son of Uther Pendragon."

"It won't ever cease to amaze _me_ what a cabbage head you can be."

Arthur snorted, and for a moment, a genuine smile came over his expression. "Well you're still a blundering idiot."

"And you're an intolerable lout." Merlin's smile was hidden as his back was turned, but it was still there, and it was sincere. He spun on a heel and clenched his hands, his fingers grasping at the lose threads on his sleeves, "if I don't get better, when I die, I want you to know that I don't blame you."

Arthur shook his head and put a hand on his forehead, sliding it through his hair. "You should."

"No. You didn't know."

"You're not going to _die_ , _Mer_ lin, so stop talking like that. I told you, I'm going to fix this. You just have to trust me."

"I do." Merlin tried to read Arthur's expression, whatever storm was going on behind his eyes.

Arthur met Merlin's gaze, and it was the rare time that Arthur looked... open, somehow. "Then why did you never tell me? Why did you hide it? What did you think I would do?"

"I didn't want this," Merlin moved a hand in the air, "I didn't want you to lose another person to your responsibilities. Believe it or not, I know how that can be. I'm just sorry you had to find out at a time like this."

The young Pendragon frowned. "You are..." He shook his head and sighed. Merlin felt a wave of queasiness, as he had been feeling often for the past week or so, and gave up trying to ward it off. He sat down, covering his nose as it began stinging. "You're still a mystery. Merlin?" He sounded concerned.

Merlin waved, "Just dizzy, sire."

Something rushed against his fingers and he pulled his hand away from his nose, the sight of bright red blood making him clamp it back down. Arthur bent down and placed a hand on his shoulder, extending his other hand out to the manservant, "Gaius will know what to do." When Merlin didn't immediately take the outstretched limb, he continued, "You said you trusted me, so trust me now, Merlin."

Merlin gripped his metal-clad wrist.

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Not an hour later, Gaius was looking through his many, many books, having heard Arthur's full explanation of the pendant. Arthur sat on one of the benches, one foot resting on a turned over bucket. He turned the necklace over and over in his hands, staring at the gold that swam inside of it. It was a part of Merlin. He was practically holding Merlin's life in his hands, and all he could think was - he didn't deserve this kind of responsibility. He had held the fate of Camelot in his hand's before, he had saved lives, he had felt the pressure of doing so, the realization that if he didn't take charge and save them that no one would, but this... this was different. He had put his friend in this position, and he felt undeserving to hold such power.

"Merlin..." he started, a thought hitting him, "You said you were perhaps the most..." It felt odd saying it. "powerful warlock to live. Why, then, can one gem contain your magic? I mean, it's somewhat..." He shook it and then held it up to the sunlight that shone through an open window, "...compact."

"I overheard your father talking to someone about buying more. He said he feared that sorcerers could be hidden inside Camelot's walls. He also spoke of whatever he was buying could take away magic."

Gaius frowned and looked up from the book he had been reading. "Why did you keep this to yourself?"

Merlin shrugged, obviously uncomfortable at the stares he was getting from both Gaius and Arthur, "I guess I forgot."

Gaius continued to frown, unhappy with the response. "Nonetheless. I found something. If you break the pendant - or, if there are multiple, the pendants - at the same time, it releases the magic back into the world, but not into the person. The user must be willing and accept it back..."

Merlin jumped up. " _That_ won't be an issue!"

"I'm not finished, boy. That doesn't save their life, it just returns their magic."

Arthur sighed and closed his eyes, rubbing three fingers against the lids.

"But, the 'Hell' you spoke of, Arthur, is metaphorical."

"Thank God," Merlin breathed, seeming to be in good mood, whereas Arthur and Gaius were far from it. He grinned. "I'll get my powers back and I'm not going to be damned, I'm content."

"Instead, you will fall into a coma full of your worst fears and greatest pain you can imagine. It will happen once, as warning, a day or two before the permanent coma begins. You will tell us when this happens, Merlin, because we need to be ready for..."

"Uh..."

Merlin's uncomfortable sound stopped Gaius' sentence in it's tracks. The man stood up. "Don't tell me it's already happened!"

"Well, I forgot to mention that too, I thought it was just a... dream?"

"You stupid boy!" Gaius shouted, fear hidden beneath anger. Arthur wasn't any more pleased with this revelation than Gaius was.

"Why on _Earth_ do you hide so many things?" He stood up and started pacing, breathing out a sigh every few seconds, "What are we supposed to do?"

"I..." Gaius stopped, his expression blanking. Even Merlin seemed to be holding his breath.

"I don't know. But we may as well start by returning his magic."


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Not much to say here, but, enjoy, and thank you for all of the continual support! Love you all!**

Arthur made his way down the halls, his heart pounding inside his rib cage. He had been tasked with finding the other pendants that Uther had bought, in order for them to break the stones at the exact same moment. Merlin had suggested throwing them from a building, but their was no sure way that they would break, especially not in the same instance. So, needless to say, they hadn't figured out how they would do it as of yet. Still. Arthur was going to gather them, and they would take it from there. A feeling of doubt niggled its way inside his mind, making him rethink his actions - no, he was doing the right thing. He owed Merlin and this was the way he would repay that debt. As if he ever fully could... He swallowed and gritted his teeth, trying not to think about the fact that he was the cause of this disaster, at least partially. He blamed himself, and if Merlin died, he wasn't sure he would be able to just 'forgive and forget.' He couldn't blame his father for it, he couldn't even find it in him to blame Merlin for all the secrets, in truth, the only person he felt deserved punishment was him and he alone.

When he reached the throne room, he entered and told the guards that he wished to speak with the king. Alone. They all dutifully marched out through the open doors, leaving the two royals alone. Arthur approached the throne, watching as his father stood and looked at him with a questioning eye, asking,

"What is the matter?"

Arthur took a breath and stopped a yard from the lord. "The pendant you gifted me - are there more? I..." Was he really going to lie to him? Was he going to stoop so low? He couldn't do that. He wanted to save his friend, but he knew the betrayal of lies. He refused. "Thought, for a while, it would be wise to give one to my manservant, Merlin. He is always by my side, and he has saved my from many... evil sorcerers. He deserves to feel safe." That was true, he thought. Perhaps the intentions were a bit stretched, but for the most part, it was truth.

Uther frowned in thought, contemplating this. "Yes. Although, I am not sure I want to waste on on a servant... But what you say isn't false. Most of them I have gifted to other members of the court, but as I was about to give one to Gaius, you may take one to Merlin as well."

The prince felt a pang of irritation. How was he supposed to get all of them from the court members? "I would take one to both Gaius and Merlin, I will be going that direction anyways. Merlin wasn't feeling well at the feast yesterday, I need to see if he is all right."

Frowning, Uther searched his eyes, "You care too much for the boy."

"I care for my people. All of my people. Even the servants."

Uther took it at face value and then took two small necklaces from the pockets on his long coat. He handed them over to Arthur. "Some have come forward, saying theirs have already began glowing. There is a great evil in our midst, Arthur. Be on guard."

"I always am, Father."

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His trek back to the physician's chambers was a relatively short one, and when he entered, he saw both Gaius and Merlin; Merlin was sitting on a bench while Gaius stood and rifled through a shelf of potions. Upon his entry, both men looked up, hopeful. Arthur tried not to let his feelings show on his face, but he doubted it worked. His disappointment must have shone clearly, because both of their faces fell. He held up two of the pendants and then slammed them down on the table, pinching the bridge of his nose, "Father has been gifting them to members of the court." In response to his words, Merlin gaped for a moment.

"We will never get them all in time!"

"Don't be a cynic, Merlin. We just need a plan."

Gaius brought over a vile to the black-haired man, handing it over, "It will help with the pain." Merlin accepted it gratefully, drinking the pale liquid in one gulp before fiddling with the now-empty bottle in shaking hands. Gaius squeezed Merlin's shoulder and gave what could have been a reassuring smile, but truth be told, it looked more like a woeful grimace. Arthur couldn't help but think that Gaius' expression was how they all felt inwardly.

"I will get the names of who has them. Do we need every single one, or just the ones that contain Merlin's... you know." Arthur still tried to avoid saying the word 'magic' when in reference to his manservant.

"Just the ones that glow golden," Gaius replied.

Arthur looked to Merlin, as though he expected him to say something. He had always been the voice of reason for Arthur before, at least, in times of trial. But the boy said nothing, only continued to stare at his quaking extremities as though they were to blame for the whole situation. Arthur's attention was pulled from looking at Merlin's eyes and hands to his lips, swallowing back bile. In just an hour, his lips had gone from normal to blistered and caked with fresh blood, even splitting in one place. It looked as though someone had made him drink acid. Arthur shivered at the image that came into his mind, telling himself that it was just one of the symptoms to whatever was happening.

"Gaius, you and I need to find those pendants. If there are two of us, we can cover more ground. I will find the knights and ask them to do the same."

At that, Merlin looked up in fear. "You can't tell them about me."

Of course. They might tell Uther before he was out of Camelot. Arthur frowned, seeming impatient, "I know that. I will keep your secret safe for now, Merlin."

"Merlin shouldn't be left alone in this state." Gaius returned to the previous conversation. He always thinking of the worst-case scenario. Arthur pursed his lips.

"We don't have a choice. Perhaps returning his... his... _magic_. Will heal him."

Merlin met his eyes and stood. "I want to help. This is _my_ life at stake and I don't want you all risking yourselves to help me while I sit around doing nothing, waiting for death."

"No. You're staying here. That is an order, from your future king." Arthur's tone gave no quarter, not even an inch for discussion. "Rest."

The warlock looked unhappy, but he didn't argue. He was too obviously exhausted. Instead, he headed up to his bedroom and closed to door, leaving Gaius and Arthur alone. "Gaius, take the East wing. I will talk to the knights and then take the north side."

Gaius bowed and then hurried, as fast as he could manage, out the door. Arthur followed after him.

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 **"** All I can tell you for the time being is Merlin's well-being is at stake. I need you to go to all of the members of the court as quickly as you can and retrieve the pendants. They look like this." Arthur pulled one from around his neck, his stomach roiling as he saw that it was now entirely gold. He shook away his guilt and showed the knights, who all observed the gem and their prince. "Meet me outside of the physician's quarters before noon, and do so with haste."

Gwaine, displeased with the lack of information, let a hand rest on the hilt of his sword and leaned forward, saying, "With all due respect, If Merlin's life is in danger, why are we collecting jewelry?"

"You will understand in a matter of days. For now, follow my orders. I can tell you no more. Merlin has requested that I not."

"Sire," Sir Leon bowed and then headed west at a jog, his red cape flowing out behind his movements. The other knights began to do the same, one at a time separating from the group and going down different hallways.

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Gwaine knocked on the door, impatient. As soon as the door opened, he flashed a quick (and what he hoped was charming - well, who was he kidding, of course it was, this was him) smile at the noblewoman and then pointed to the pendant around her neck. "I'm sorry to bother you, Milady, but there has been an issue with the pendants. The prince has sent several of the knights to repossess them."

She gave him a strange look and clenched a fist around the necklace possessively. "I'm quite partial to it. What is this 'issue' about?"

"It has to do with... Poison. Gaius believes there is a substance in the gem that radiates a kind of aerial poison."

"Dear heavens..."

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Percival smiled at the young man who was wandering the corridor. "Hello," he began, wrapping a large hand around the pendant hanging from the other man's neck, "I need to take this."

"A-uh... S-sure. Whatever you say."

He smiled again and snapped it off.

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 **"** Well, you see," Leon laughed, the sound soft and uncomfortable, "There was a mistake with the pendant, and I believe it to be the wrong one. The king will have my head unless I switch them out. Will that be all right?"

"Of course. Here, take it." The young woman slid it into his hand and closed his fingers around it, batting her eyelashes at him and moving suggestively. He gulped.

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"I cannot thank you enough. Pray feel better soon." Lancelot bowed to the royal adviser than took his leave, hurrying down the next hallway. He had one more person he was going to ask for the pendant, and then he would meet the others at Gaius' chambers.

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Gaius went on and on about disease and airborne pathogens, watching as the figure's expression morphed closer to one of absolute horror as well as confusion. Good, people asked fewer questions when they were completely baffled and disoriented. He grabbed the pendant and began taking it from where it was against the man's chest, working the chain over his head.

"...So, there has been a recall..."

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When they regrouped, most of the necklaces had been collected. Arthur breathed a relieved sigh. That was one problem that had been solved, now onto breaking them at the same time. Actually, maybe the knights could help with that as well, after all, Merlin didn't have much time and no one else had any other ideas. Yes, he decided, the knights could be of use; they would time it and crush each stone in the same instant. It would work - it had to.

Only -

They never got that far. They had taken too long, even with six people.

Gaius, upon arrival, had gone straight to check on Merlin, leaving Arthur and the knights alone for several minutes, and that was the time that Arthur had come up with the idea to tell the knights to destroy the magic-stealing gems. As soon as the older man had bustled into the back room he saw a form sprawled out on the floor, all color flushed from his pale skin and his cheek pressed against the ground, his eyes closed fast and his lips parted.

He knelt by the young man, his back cracking as he did so. "Arthur!" His voice failed him and he swallowed back the sadness that was creeping into his chest, replacing it with resignation and determination, "Arthur!"

The prince came running inside, jumping up the steps and bursting through the door, looking for a threat. When he found none, his eyes traveled downward, landing on the ever-still shape of his manservant. His mouth opened and he tried to swallow, blue eyes widening. They couldn't be too late. They had only been gone a few minutes. No. He refused to let the man die by his hand. His teeth drew together again, jaw muscles tensing.

He refused...

"He still lives. Help me get him onto the bed." Gaius took one of Merlin's arms, but Arthur prodded him out of the way, picking up the figure in a bridal-style carry. Merlin was... far too light, and far too quiet. Arthur said nothing, and his expression blanked as he set Merlin on the bed. Just two weeks ago, everything had been fine. Everything had been okay. _He_ had been fine.

Deep down, he had known this was going to happen, and he was so... tired. He felt like he had already lived this moment before, and was just reliving a nightmare. He felt... like things were out of his control, and he hated that, he had always hated that feeling. He needed to make things better.

"We must find a way, Gaius. We must find a way."


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Thank you for the reviews! I tried to keep this one from being a cliffhanger as well, so, I guess it depends on what you consider a cliffhanger...? *Smiles sweetly* Enjoy.**

"Dream root."

"What?" Arthur frowned in confusion, rocking back onto his left heel. Gaius pursed his lips, one eye twitching as he thought how to explain his thought process,

"Silene undulata. It is also known as 'Dream root'. Not long ago, I had a conversation with a young man, a servus, who spoke of a thing he had seen in a far away land. He had stolen some from his master, who had stolen some from the people there. Here..." Gaius made his way into the lower room, wincing as he walked down the stairs. He wasn't sure where he had put it, because he had never really thought he would use it, but thank a higher power that he had done so in case of emergencies despite his reservations.

"That's all well and good, Gaius, but I have no idea what it's for. Do you think it can help Merlin dream, at least, of something other than his worst nightmares?" Arthur followed suit, crossing his arms as he eyed the old physician.

Gaius glanced over his shoulder, "No. It allows someone to enter someone else's sleeping mind."

Arthur's eyes widened and he uncrossed his arms, moving one hand out in a gesture for Gaius to slow down, "Are you saying someone will be able to go inside his _head_? Merlin's? And see what he is seeing?"

"Yes, and perhaps you will be able to convince him to wake up. This is, after all, largely psychological. I believe he has the ability to wake up, if only he is told that he can."

Arthur stepped in a small circle and put a hand to his chin in thought. He pointed at Gaius. "But why not just tell it to him now? Coma patients can hear, can they not?"

"He could very well wave it off as a figment of his imagination. We have no idea what he is living. He needs to see you, Arthur. Ah! Here 'tis." Gaius held up a small bottle that contained little white flowers, green stems and their tiny roots. Arthur pulled a face,

" _That_ is supposed to help? It looks..." He broke off there. Appearances could be deceiving, after all, Merlin was some great warlock, and he didn't look at all like that. Arthur nodded his head. "So how does it work? Do you crush it into a powder?"

Gaius grabbed several things from off various shelves and cleared a spot on one of the tables, beginning to make... well, Arthur wasn't sure what he was doing exactly. He watched from several feet away, wondering to himself how things could change in the blink of an eye. Two weeks ago, his opinion of magic had been close to his father's, albeit more neutral. Now? Everything was in question. Merlin wasn't evil to his core, and he was supposed to be powerful with the very thing that Uther had always said was nothing but cruel and wrong, so, what was truth? Did it even matter?

A small rap on the door made Arthur turn, and he turned just in time to see Gwaine's head peek around the corner. Soon, the action was repeated by Percival, and so on. "Sire."

"Just wondering if we are..." Leon grunted, yanking Gwaine out of his way as the man tried to push him back, "Supposed to break these yet or not, my lord." He opened the door.

"And where's Merlin?" Gwaine asked, reappearing there and peering about, looking as though he had expected to see the young servant inside the room. Arthur sighed. He didn't want to explain this yet, and he wasn't required to, but at the same time he felt that they deserved to know in some right.

"He's dying."

Lancelot looked as though he had been struck in the face. "What happened? Where is he now?"

Arthur gritted his teeth and motioned towards the backroom, but put up a hand in gesture to stop them from going back there. "You have a duty to your king, and I will not jeopardize that. I will save Merlin, but I do ask one thing; that you don't speak of this to my father. I know your duty is to inform the king of everything, but I ask you, as a friend, and as you are Merlin's friends, to keep this quiet for the time being."

Gwaine straightened his back and squared his shoulders, his eyebrows drawing together, "I became a knight to serve you, princess. Not your father. He hasn't been much of a king these past few months as it is, ever since Morgana's betrayal."

Arthur breathed in, "Tread carefully, Gwaine."

Lancelot stepped forward, "What he means is, you are the reason we are all here. We serve you, Sire."

"I was with your father for many years, but I have seen the way you will lead, and that is something I will gladly give my life for. I would give my life for you, Arthur." Leon met his eyes.

"We will keep this quiet if that is what you ask of us," Percival looked gravely serious. They all did. They moved their right arms across their armored chests and bowed, in sync. Arthur felt a pang of doubt - he wasn't deserving of this, but he would have to be. He dipped his head in acknowledgment to the knights then spoke,

"No doubt someone will report to my father that their gem has been taken. It is ultimately your decision, but I ask of you that you keep anyone off of our backs while we find a way to save Merlin. After we do, I cannot promise what will happen to any of you. If that is a risk you are willing to take, then you have my eternal gratitude, and my respect."

"Just give us an order," Gwaine replied with a smile. Arthur couldn't help but return with a small smile of his own. These were men that he would, and had done so before, trust with his life.

"The king will need a more pressing matter to attend to, just for the next day or so. Do you what you feel is necessary, but hurt no one in the process."

They bowed again and Percival's expression lit up with a grin, "I have an idea."

"I'm finished," Gaius spoke from where he was across the room, holding up a small container filled with the dream root and what looked like a sleeping draft. Arthur nodded and then motioned for the knights to leave, which, they did, going to go through with Percival's plan no doubt. Arthur was somewhat concerned about that, but with any hope it would work for just a few hours. That's all he needed.

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Arthur sat down on the floor beside Merlin's bed, cringing in discomfort as his back came in contact with the rock-hard ground. He moved his gloved hand up and bent his fingers, gesturing for Gaius to give him the potion. The older man did just that and gave him a strange look all the while, as though he was trying to decide if he had just killed the young prince. Needless to say, it wasn't comforting. Arthur grunted and shook his head, taking a breath and mustering his courage he drank the concoction. It tasted oddly like honey. He set the glass down beside himself and put his head down on the floor, his hands clasping over his stomach.

"Merlin may not trust that it is you. He may believe it is his mind playing tricks. You have to make him believe it is you, Arthur, the real you. You have to make him believe."

Great. Because that was going to be so, so easy...

He embraced sleep when it came.

 _Screams surrounded him, and suddenly he was thrust into mass panic. Figures were running everywhere, paying him no mind as they just tried to get away from something. He walked the opposite direction that they did, assuming that whatever they were running from was exactly what he needed to see. Moonlight glinted on the cobblestones beneath his feet, and he looked up to see the castle not too far off. He was in the courtyard, then. That was something, at least he knew the place that he was in. He tripped, falling flat on his face and being instantly reminded of all those times he had laughed at Merlin for doing the exact same thing. He spat out a litany of complains and drew himself up, looking down to see what had caused his sudden descent. There was a tear in the rocks, as though lightening had come from the sky and uprooted the very ground itself. People were still rushing everywhere, making him practically blind to the real cause of this, or even to all of the damage that had been done._

 _When the people had finally cleared, he saw a gaping wound just in front of the stairs that led up to the castle. Flames burned inside of it and debris was scattered everywhere, making it look like total destruction. Arthur swallowed and reminded himself that this was fake, this was not real, this was not his Camelot, this was Merlin's brain giving him scenarios to break his spirit, and it wouldn't work because Arthur was there to save him. This was all fake. He stepped forward, sliding down a half-foot into the pit below. He could see bodies scattered inside, the fires being enough light to give him a good view. Rocks were sent tumbling down as he kicked them by accident._

 _"Merlin?"_

 _Not too far off, he heard a familiar voice._

 _"No. No..." A whining breath, a gasp. He narrowed his eyes and looked for the familiar figure. "I didn't mean to. It just happened. I have no idea why it just... it just happened. Gaius? Please, Gaius..."_

 _When he spotted the man, his heart clenched. He was hunched over Gaius' body, which was broken and twisted in no ways that a human should ever be in. His stomach flipped - he had seen bad, bad injuries in battle, but to think that Merlin's mind could come up with such a horror? He felt ill._

 _Merlin stroked the side of Gaius' face, whispering words that sounded suspiciously like incantations. His eyes lit up gold, but Gaius remained still and broken, his own eyes open and as empty as the night._

 _"Merlin?" Arthur called, jogging down the last few steps until he arrived in the center of the chaos. At the sound of his voice, Merlin looked up, glistening tears running down his cheeks. Arthur swallowed, staring. Merlin's teeth were clenched and his lip was drawn back, choking sounds coming from his chest. "Merlin, I'm..."_

 _Merlin yelled. No, not yelled, he roared, unlike any sound that Arthur had ever heard from a man. He took a step back, ashamed of the action only a second after he had done it._

 _The whole world flashed white, unlike anything that Arthur had ever beheld before._

 _He felt his body jerk, being thrown backwards. Pain exploded in every inch of his being. Fake or not, the pain was real, and obviously it was real for Merlin. People could only imagine things that they had felt before in some way, and the realization of that sent spikes of remorse through Arthur's chest. Merlin had felt too much pain, and he had never even noticed..._

 _When the light faded, he was no longer in the courtyard._

 _He was in a battlefield, a a sword was protruding from his solar plexus. He gagged and let his head drop, his eyes wide. Why, why did he have to a part of Merlin's nightmare? Why couldn't he just be a fake version, like Gaius had been? He cursed and clamped a hand around the blade, trying to pick himself up off of the ground, only to realize he could barely move. This was just getting better and better._

 _"Arthur!" The pained yell came from above him, and a second later Merlin's face was blocking his view of the orange sky. "You're going to be fine, Arthur. I can fix this. I can heal you I just..." He put a hand over the wound, saying a spell, his eyes glowing gold. He said another one, but was obviously displeased with the effect (or lack there of) that it had. He tried another, and another, until his words became strained and choked... "I'm so sorry, Arthur. I was too late. I knew it was Mordred I must stop, and yet, I..."_

 _Arthur needed to snap him out of this. "Stop acting like a dollophead, Merlin." He focused on breathing, despite the pain, because his pain was an illusion, and so was Merlin's. If he couldn't convince himself of that, how could he hope to convince Merlin? "This isn't... real."_

 _"That's my word."_

 _Angry, Arthur spat, "Did you not hear me? This is fake. This is all in your head. You need to... wake up."_

 _"I can't. I failed. How could I have failed..."_

 _"You." Arthur gritted his teeth and tore the sword from his stomach, "have not." He stood, grabbing Merlin on the way up, "Failed!" He shook Merlin by the biceps, happy with himself as he saw Merlin's shocked expression. Maybe he could convince the man... "I. Am. Fine." He slapped his manservant's face. "You just have to believe it, Merlin. You just have to have faith."_

 _"But..."_

 _"No buts."_

 _"I..."_

 _"Just hear me out."_


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Thank you all for the feedback, again! Enjoy!**

Sir Leon frowned, his knuckles turning white as he clenched his fists. For the past hour, Percival and the others had been starting fights in every tavern they could find, starting with the Rising Sun. It was enough, and the commotion was certainly enough, to catch the king's attention. He would be sending knights out to deal with the problem, undoubtedly, and with any luck they would be out of sight by then. Well, that was Gwaine's thought at least. Leon, however, was feeling regret about his decision to help them. It was for a fine cause, of course, saving a man's life and it was by order of the prince, but Leon's duty was to inform the king. He was one of the most respected knights in the kingdom, and Uther trusted him. He wouldn't be doing the wrong thing by informing the king, while he was doing the wrong thing helping in distracting the man.

Uther wouldn't harm his son for helping a lowly servant, would he? He would not. That was a noble thing to do, to help someone beneath yourself in stature, and Uther had honor. Leon believed that. So as soon as he had the opportunity, thee young knight slipped away from the others, leaving the chaotic fighting behind and heading towards the castle. He couldn't seem to find a compromise that made his conscience feel unburdened, but he knew what his duty was, and he would fulfill it. That was the right thing to do. That was his responsibility, and even if he lost everything for it, he had to tell the truth to the eldest Pendragon.

He would inform the king of Camelot that his son, his heir, had taken the necklaces from the members of the court and had asked the knights to distract him from what was really going on. Arthur was trying to save Merlin from something, and that something had to do with the gems.

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 _"...I don't understand. I'm... asleep?"_

 _Arthur sighed and sat down on a boulder, nursing the wound on his solar plexus even though by this point the pain had faded. As soon as Merlin believed what he was saying, it would stop bleeding, too. At least that was what he hoped. "Yes. Gaius gave me Dream Root so I could enter your head, and henceforth I would like to go back to the real world, if you would be so kind as to make that happen."_

 _Merlin put his hands on his hips and walked in a semi-circle, gnawing on the inside of his cheek. "I don't know how to do that. Shouldn't it have already happened? After all, I believe you..."_

 _Arthur put one hand up in the air as a sort of shrug before dropping the extremity onto his thigh. "You're supposed to be the warlock, I assumed you would know what to do. Even Gaius assumed that." He sniffed and stared off, feeling tired and ill at the sight of the bodies lying scattered over every part of the ground. Not one place was not soaked in blood. He was still surprised by the fact that his manservant's mind was such a vividly dark place - well, it couldn't always be this bad, he thought to himself, since this was supposed to be some of his worst nightmares._

 _"Maybe there's something I have to do first. Did Gaius say anything about a spell?"_

 _The young prince wrinkled his nose and sat up straighter. "No. I would have remembered that."_

 _Merlin swallowed and put a hand in his short, raven-black hair and looked off over at the desolation. He seemed to realize something and lowered his hand, looking off towards the other side of the battle field. "If this is my subconscious, then I've retained the information... somewhere. We just have to find it."_

 _"Great. So we have to traipse through your worst thoughts in order to find a way to get out? Nothing is ever just so simple as just... getting out, is it." Arthur sighed and stood up, flinching when a searing pain entered his stomach. He looked down to see his skin pulling itself together, straps of flesh coming out and clinging to the opposite side of the wound. He made a face and let out a sound of distaste, tearing his eyes away from the sight. As he walked past Merlin, he tapped a finger against the side of the boy's head, "I don't like this place, Merlin."_

 _"Thanks." Merlin rolled his eyes and shook his head, following suit of Arthur's actions. "I have an idea of how to get around faster."_

 _"Then by all means," Arthur waved a hand out then stopped, watching Merlin expectantly._

 _"You're... not going to like it. It has to do with a dragon. Just... Don't... get too angry."_

 _Arthur frowned but said nothing, which Merlin was grateful for. He moved away from his friend, sparing one last glance at the prince who still looked less than pleased about the whole situation. Well, they didn't have many options, and he could just blame it on... well, there wasn't much he could blame it on, but he really didn't want to explain it to Arthur right now._

 ** _"O drakon, e male so ftengometta tesd'hup'anankes!"_**

 _When he swung around to meet Arthur head-on, he wasn't surprised to find the other man looking at him as though he had grown another head. He shrugged and smiled in return. "This had just better work, Merlin, or I am going to have to find another way to get out of this place..."_

 _"Me?"_

 _"Shut up. I don't want to be in your head anymore. It's even worse than my own."_

 _"Uoh, I doubt that very much," Merlin retorted, raising his eyebrows as he turned away. Arthur pursed his lips and reached out, grabbing Merlin's shoulder and giving him a rough yank to spin him around. Merlin yelped and stumbled, almost losing his balance entirely. "Ow!"_

 _Before Arthur could say anything else, there was the sound of a thousand winds being forced down from the sky. It wasn't unlike what he had imagined when he, as a child, had listened to some of the stories of the old gods, with their wars of thunder, lightening, winds and blood. But he recognized that sound from somewhere else. Merlin hadn't been kidding when he had said it had to do with a dragon... And what had that language been, anyways? It didn't even sound like Old English, which was the usual sorcerer's spell language. Arthur stared at the back of Merlin's head, wondering once again just how powerful he was, and why he looked so... Well, he certainly didn't look like he could control much of anything, much less the elements themselves._

 _A dragon crossed the sky, diving and then spreading his great wings to slow his descent. The air caught and he flapped the great appendages, his landing causing the ground to tremble. Arthur refrained from taking a sword out of one of the bodies laying everywhere, he had to remind himself that it was all fake, that it was in his friend's head and he really, really wanted to get out of here as soon as possible because it made him even more confused about Merlin than he had been before taking the Dream root..._

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"Where is he?" Uther shouted, bursting through the door of the physician's chambers. Gaius felt his nerves shatter, but it took him only a moment to piece them back together. He straightened his shoulders and quirked an eyebrow,

"I have no idea what you are talking about, Sire. Is something wrong?"

"Yes," Uther growled, his teeth barred. He pushed Gaius out of the way and began searching the room, glancing beneath the tables and up the narrow stairway. "Where is the boy, Arthur's servant? And where is my son? I don't know what has come over Arthur, but I will not allow for it. Merlin is a sorcerer, Gaius, I am sure of it." He suddenly spun on a heel and looked the physician in the eyes, "Did you know this, Gaius? Speak the truth. I will know if you lie."

"I..." Gaius pursed his lips and frowned. "That's impossible, Sire."

"Evidently not. Arthur has... done something that will spare his life. It will spare the life of a sorcerer. I cannot stand for this insolence." He turned his head, looking at Merlin's room. Something sparked in his eyes, a hatred that boiled in the pit of his stomach. He started towards the door.

Gaius felt his heart speed up.

"Uther, you musn't act rash!"

"I am the king! I can do as I please, and you would do well to remember that." Uther turned for just a second, his eyes burning holes into Gaius. Gaius swallowed, seeing as the elder Pendragon continued on his path towards the room. If he found Merlin in this state, in a coma, he could do whatever he pleased to him. There would be no chance for the young man.

"Uther!" Gaius yelled, not for Uther's ears, but for Merlin's.

There was nothing he could do now; it was in the warlock's hands, and Arthur's.

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 _"You called, young warlock?"_

 _"Yes," Merlin breathed, "I need your help. I have to find a way out of... here."_

 _The dragon dipped his head, looking between Merlin and Arthur. "Of course you do. No one likes to face their deepest fears, instead they would rather run and hide from them."_

 _"What is that supposed to mean?" Arthur piped up, crossing his arms. Merlin's subconscious was... odd._

 _"It means," Kilgharrah started, "That the only way out, is through. You cannot jump to the finish, you must begin at the start."_

 _Merlin moved on his feet, the actions look anxious, "How am I supposed to do that?"_

 _"I cannot tell you that. But if there is a place you should ask me to take you to, then take you I shall."_

 _Merlin turned around, thinking. Both the dragon and the prince watched his movements. "The day I came to Camelot." The dragon lowered himself to the ground, waiting for the two men to get onto his back. Merlin looked at Arthur with a grin, but Arthur only returned with a look soaked in apprehension. He didn't like the idea of riding a dragon, especially not one that appeared to be the same as the one that had brought such pain to his kingdom, but it was a necessity. He mustered up his courage, called himself a few names in his head in hopes of driving away his anxiety, and then climbed the creature's shoulder. Merlin followed quickly after, but halfway up, he stopped, looking dizzy._

 _"Merlin?" Kilgharrah called, twisting his long neck around as he looked at the boy. "What is it?"_

 _"Do you... do you hear that?" He put a hand to the side of his head and groaned, his face pinching in pain. His grip started to slip. Arthur lunged forward, leaning down and grabbing his servant's arm. He hauled him up with great effort and wrapped his arms around Merlin's chest to keep him from falling off of the dragon._

 _"Merlin!" He yelled, giving him a shake. The boy only groaned and grasped at his head with both hands._

 _"Something's wrong."_

 ** _"Uther!"_** _Gaius' voice rang through Merlin's mind - Arthur looked up in shock as it resounded over the land._

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Uther seized the door handle, shooting Gaius one last look. If Merlin had hurt his son, he would pay with more than his life, he would know the pain that Uther felt in his very bones. He opened the door, throwing it against the wall with a loud bang. The room was empty. The king growled in his throat and stormed down the few steps, moving past Gaius and exiting the physician's chambers. He would find the traitor, and he would have him killed.

Gaius looked after Uther and then hurried up the stairs, his mouth dropping open as he stared at the empty room. Merlin and Arthur were... gone.

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 _Arthur watched as a pale white veil exploded from Merlin, covering both he and the prince in what felt like a soft bubble. Arthur looked down at Merlin's face, seeing his eyes open and flash gold before falling closed again. The boy squirmed in his grasp, moaning in some sudden discomfort and nearly falling off of the dragon's back. Arthur dug his fingers into his friend's flesh, doing his best to keep him from taking the plunge. He had no idea what was happening._


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: All right, so, I just think this whole fic is a cliffhanger... *Snorts* Whoopsies. I just got back from another conference and I... am... tired. *Laughs* 'Twas fun, though! Enjoy!**

 _Arthur watched as a pale white veil exploded from Merlin, covering both he and the prince in what felt like a soft bubble. Arthur looked down at Merlin's face, seeing his eyes open and flash gold before falling closed again. The boy squirmed in his grasp, moaning in some sudden discomfort and nearly falling off of the dragon's back. Arthur dug his fingers into his friend's flesh, doing his best to keep him from taking the plunge. He had no idea what was happening._

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 _"Merlin...? Come on, this isn't a game. Wake up."_

 _"If you don't wake up, I swear to God above..."_

 _The warlock focused on the words, trying to drown out the darkness to replace it with light. It was Arthur's voice, of that he was sure, and he remembered hearing Gaius' voice saying 'Uther' and there being danger to both he, Merlin, and more importantly to Arthur, and that was... About all that the young man could remember. Maybe if he tried harder to just think he could come up with some answers, but he didn't have any to tell his own mind. He needed to open his eyes. Unconsciousness skittered away like an unwanted, diseased rat, watching him from the corner while it gnawed on its broken paw. Merlin dragged in a breath and sat up, taking note first of all that he was no longer on a dragon, and second of all that Arthur was gripping his tunic, one hand in the front and one nestled against his back. The servant pitched forward and placed a palm against his forehead, his lips pressing together and his expression morphing into one of discomfort. Oh. He did remember what had happened now. His gut twisted, he felt hollow._

 _"There." Arthur sighed and slapped Merlin's shoulder from behind. The servant winced even harder than he had been wincing already._

 _"Do you think..." Merlin began, drawing in a tired breath and blinking away his blurred vision, "now that you know who I really am, that you might stop hitting me?"_

 _"Not in this lifetime. Do you mind telling me what happened? One moment, we were going to get out of this place, and then the next Gaius is yelling and you're looking as ashen as a volcanic sky..." Arthur stood up._

 _Merlin frowned and looked up, seeing the prince extended an arm. He took the offered help and brushed himself off. "I think that I may have inadvertently... Well..." He shrugged one shoulder, the motion both trying to buy him some time to explain things and put his jacket sleeve back onto its rightful place. "We're not just dreaming in my coma anymore. I had to protect you, Arthur. I didn't know what else to do."_

 _Arthur swallowed roughly. Things just kept getting better and better. "Explain yourself." He seized Merlin by the elbow and looked into his eyes, trying to understand just what he was trying to say._

 _Annoyed by his master's reaction, he shook off his grip. He had to make the hard decisions, the ones where neither option was a good one, and either way someone ended up angry at him for it. He had always done his best not to let it affect him. "I made something like another dimension - at least I think that's what I did. I used my own mind as the base and..." He moved his hands close to each other, as though he was holding a crystal ball, and whispered under his breath, a silver sphere growing between his fingers. "Imagine this, taking on an invisible and solid form, and large enough to contain worlds of thoughts." He snapped his hands together, effectively vanishing the shifting, shimmering grey bubble._

 _The young prince shuddered and took an involuntary step back. He gritted his teeth and crossed his arms, resting his weight onto his left heel and moved his right foot forward. "And how exactly are we meant to get back?"_

 _"I... I don't know, Arthur." Merlin sighed heavily and turned his back, his shoulders sagging. "Khil - the dragon gave my instruction, perhaps I can still use that as our way out. It would be better if you stay here, Sire. You will be safe here." The warlock turned back around and fidgeted, uncomfortable in his own skin, "This is my battle and I'll fix whatever I've gotten you into." He didn't relish the idea of Arthur being - literally - inside his head. Who knew what things he could find, what he would uncover, and even though Merlin knew better than to be concerned about that thought, he couldn't help himself. He was worried at what Arthur would see._

 _"No. I did this." Arthur's voice grew somber. He uncrossed his arms, his expression one of resignation, "I could have killed you, I still might. Because of my actions - no, because of my inaction, you very well may lose the one thing that no man has a right to take, and by my hand. I will not let that happen. Even if you are an insufferable, lying idiot."_

 _Merlin took a deep breath through his nose, a whistling sound ensuing. He felt a clench inside of his chest. Slowly, the man tipped his head down and somewhat to the side before raising it again, meeting his friend's gaze. "No matter the outcome of this, I will be eternally grateful for the opportunity I have had to serve you. You will be a great king, if only you find and forever keep faith, wisdom, courage and love."_

 _The royal, baffled once again by the boy's switch in behavior, only stared. Sometimes Arthur wondered if Merlin had several personalities all bundled up inside of his bizarre mind, but, for once, he wasn't confused by the words coming from his servant. He understood the sacrifices Merlin had made. He understood that this, Albion, was something that Merlin could envision - a future of hope and freedom - and was such a vision that would forever remain as such._

 _"Thank you, Merlin. When we get out of this, truth be told, I will..." Arthur's expression pinched and he chewed on his own words, trying to find something that would be both appropriate for what he was wanting to say and also not uncomfortable. Merlin waited, ever patient, for Arthur to explain what was already going on in his throat and on his tongue. "Not, not, not, **not** miss you."_

 _Merlin started to smile. "Is that... iteration, or double-negatives?"_

 _"Iteration! Why would they ever be..." Arthur bit his tongue when Merlin laughed. "Yes, they were double-negatives. Just don't sound so content about it."_

 _"What's wrong with contentedness? But, In that case, I will never not not not not not miss you too."_

 _Arthur frowned. "You will always be a mystery." He shook his head and then rolled his shoulders back, "Well, we need to be moving, then. Who knows if your... bubble... will keep from collapsing on us. Lead the way."_

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"I am aware of what you have all taken part in. I respect your obedience to my son, to my heir, but your actions were wrong and therefore inexcusable." Uther stood from his throne, his eyes burning as he looked between each knight. He took a breath and raised his voice, "However, I will show mercy on you, for you were under orders."

"Under orders?" Gwaine blurted, trying to lunge forward to his defense. Percival caught him by the arm to keep him in check. "Arthur did not order me to partake in this. I chose to help my future _king_ , and I was of my own mind and will." Gwaine's nostrils flared as his anger did, but he swallowed down a long list of more... biting phrases and words, instead opting for silence.

Uther stood up taller and approached, one booted foot in front of the other, until he was only a foot from the knight. "I will choose to ignore your disrespect. I am your king, and you shall treat me as such."

"Prince Arthur has been the one to rule Camelot, ever since Morgana..."

The king backhanded the knight. Gwaine blinked, moving his jaw to rid himself of the stinging. He looked back to Uther, unchanged.

"For your actions, there must be a punishment." Uther made his way back to the throne and seated himself. "Public flogging. Fifty lashes each."

Sir Leon, from where he stood by the king's throne, looked mortified. His eyes widened and he looked at the small group of knights - his friends - something sinking in his gut. He realized that it was... it was regret. "Sire, don't you think that's a bit harsh..." He was silenced by Uther holding up a gloved hand. Leon swallowed, adams apple bobbing. This was his doing. Gwaine, for his part, looked smug - and if it was forced, no one could tell. He rolled his head sideways, eyes meeting Sir Leon's, and in a husky sort of tone he spoke,

"I hope this is what you were looking for when you ratted us out, Sir Leon."

Lancelot raised his head high and bowed, looking resigned and accepting of the judgement. At least, he thought, Elyan hadn't been with them when they had gone to the taverns. It had been for Merlin, he reminded himself. At least for Lancelot.

Gaius, from where he stood, was eerily quiet and tired. "Sire, don't you think that perhaps this punishment would be too shaming on the knights of Camelot as a whole, if the people were to witness?"

Uther seemed to consider this. He frowned and stroked his chin, then dropped his hand onto his knee. "No. It will be a reinforcement of our laws in the eyes of all."

The king motioned for them to be taken from the court, and other knights came forward, herding them out of the main doors.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Hello! All of your reviews surprised me in the best way... Thank you so much! On another note, if you ever watch Supernatural I was just thinking that sometimes my Merlin seems a little too much like Sam and my Arthur too much like Dean... Something for me to remedy. :)**

Percival's back was on fire. He was laying down face-first on one of Gaius' cots, trying to focus on his breathing alone, in and out, in hopes that it would ease some of the discomfort. Gaius had put some kind of poultice on the wounds, and that had made it somewhat better. He shuddered out a breath and closed his eyes, closing his fists around the material of the pillow beneath his head and chest. He and Lancelot had been punished first, but strangely, Gwaine hadn't been flogged at the same time. He was supposed to endure it the next morning. Perhaps Uther wanted to punish him twice, once by having to watch as his friends were whipped, then having to wait, and lastly going through it himself.

The man gritted his teeth and gasped, his back exploding in a fresh wave of pain. He moved his legs, wanting to flip over, squirm, press his back against the blankets, curl into a ball-which, for a man of his size, was not a thing that was usually or easily done- anything, something, but instead he only laid there, stomach-down against the mattress, trying not to cry out. He let out a long groan, only to choke on a yell of agony. He had a high threshold for pain, that was a known fact, but this was unlike anything he had ever experienced. Thinking back on the king's words, he couldn't understand why he had sentenced them in such a way. Percival would understand ten, twenty, even thirty. But people had died from fifty lashes before. Percival was actually worried about Lancelot - ever since the flogging had ended, he had barely moved a muscle. He was as still as the grave itself, and other than the sound of his strained breaths, he appeared to be dead.

There was a good reason that Uther stayed out of most matters these days. He had been known for cruelty, but ever since Morgana's betrayal, he had gone from deep depression to unreasonable anger and back again quicker than most wanted to recall.

Percival sighed. He would manage the pain, one way or another. He pressed his face farther into the soft pillow, hearing the rhythm of his heartbeats inside his head.

"Percival," The voice belonged to Gaius, "drink this." The physician helped him to get into a position in which he could drink, and then carefully poured the contents of a small bottle into the knight's mouth. He let him lie back down afterwards. Percival couldn't help but think that the medicine tasted like sweat mixed with ash, but if it killed some of aching, it was well worth it.

"How..." He was surprised to find how hard it was to speak. He swallowed and went for try number two. "'s Lancelot? Does he heal?"

There was no reply. Not even a botched attempt at one. Percival's stomach flipped and he felt queasy, expelling all thoughts of his friend dying. He wouldn't die from shock, he would wake up and he would be as fine as anyone could be in this sort of situation. He just needed time. With that, Percival pushed any last thread of worry from his being and tried to focus on his own healing. One day at a time. Suffering could only last for so long. He didn't know if the optimistic mantra would help in any way, shape or form, but he was willing to give it a chance.

"And Merlin? What of Arthur? Are they safe?"

"You needn't concern yourself with those matters now, Sir Percival. Sleep now, let your body heal."

"Tell me, Gaius. It's... all I ask." He sucked in a sharp breath and clenched his teeth through another round of throbbing.

A sigh. "I don't know. Gaius looked down at the floor for a fraction of a second before returning his gaze to Percival. He had no idea, he didn't even know where the two young men were. They were simply... gone. He didn't know if something had happened to them, if they were still alive, all he knew was that they had vanished and he didn't know where to begin with the research. What he did know, however, was how to treat wounds, and both Percival and Lancelot needed him now. Soon Gwaine would join them. He made his way to the other injured knight, looking at the white bandages on his back that had already stained crimson. He peeled them back, half to see if the wounds were inflamed and the other half to make sure Lancelot reacted. He let out the quietest moan and stirred, but stopped soon after. Disappointed by everything, Gaius moved away and gave himself the task of making tonics for the two - well, it would be three - of them.

He glanced back. Unlike Lancelot, Percival's wounds weren't covered. Gaius thought it would do some good to let them have fresh air for a bit, that it could help with the healing process, but Lancelot's were too deep and too severe. Still, staring at the larger man's back, he wondered if he should use bandages sooner than he had first planned. Not even an inch of skin was untouched. Some of the wounds were puffy and pink, the skin unbroken, but the majority were long and had a rich red color, the flesh around them swollen and obviously abused. There were even marks on his legs. No doubt the flogger had run out of space on his back. Gaius frowned and began making a potion, taking the Chamomile from the other side of the table.

He prayed that Arthur would return soon.

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 _Merlin fell on his face, a reed having hooked over his boot without his notice. He let out a wavering cry, his chest connecting with the stony river bed. He knew they should have taken the path that wasn't an old, creepy looking and dried up river that looked to lead into the depths of hell itself, what with all that darkness, bats and what sounded suspiciously like screaming. But why did he bother? Merlin moved his arms beneath himself, straightening the limbs at the elbows in order to push up. He muttered a complaint under his breath, jumping out of his skin when Arthur sudden bumped past him._

 _"Don't be such a girl." Arthur stepped out of his way, cutting down a vine that dangled in front of his face with the sword he had taken from the battle field only hours prior._

 _"You know, most people run from the giant, unearthly swirling blackness." Merlin looked up, trying to see through the thick overhanging. They were in a long tunnel of sorts, where the trees had grown together several feet above and blocked out the sun. He could still see it though - the evil. He could practically taste it in the air, and the closer they came to it, the thicker the oxygen became. It felt as though they were breathing sludge by that point, at least, from Merlin's point of view._

 _"Most people? You mean you?" Arthur glared at a particularly stubborn vine as he chopped at it._

 _Merlin blew out a breath. "You know, I was the one who stopped the army of the dead, not Morgana. She was the one that raised them. I also saved your life from several beasts on several different occasions, using magic to do so."_

 _"...And you also released the dragon. Hundreds died because of that."_

 _The warlock gaped in shock, though he hadn't meant to. He closed his mouth, and, having not realized that he had stopped, jogged to catch up to the prince. Remorse burned in the pit of his stomach. "How did you know?"_

 _"Well, you just clarified that fact for me. And I'm not a dumb, despite what you like to think,_ Merl _in." Arthur frowned at the younger man. "I should have you strung up by your toes."_

 _Merlin swallowed. "Then why don't you?" Really, why didn't Arthur just let him die? After all, he was a sorcerer, and he had lied to him for all of these years._

 _Arthur, ignoring that question, asked one of his own - "Why did you free it?"_

 _Emrys sighed. His expression had turned graver and graver over the course of several seconds, and continued to do so all the way up until the point that he spoke. "I had made a promise. We needed help, Camelot needed help, you needed help, I... needed help. So I went to the great dragon, and he asked for my word, that I would release him. I didn't go back on my promise."_

 _"You should have."_

 _Guilt was an anchor in his chest. He did his best to move past it, as he always had to do. He had made many mistakes in the past, and he just hoped that bringing Arthur into this place, into his mind, was not one of them, because he had done it to save the prince's life. That had to count for something, did it not? Just as that thought ran through his head, another joined it. "Oh... Arthur? What if we die here?"  
_

 _"The world's greatest sorcerer mewling because he doesn't want to die in a dream."_

 _"Would you quit making the 'world's greatest sorcerer' comparisons, please? And yes. That's exactly it. We're physically here now. If we die, we're dead."_

 _"Eloquently put."_

 _"I'm serious." Merlin frowned._

 _Arthur sighed and glanced over at his manservant, "It already crossed my mind." With that, the two men fell into silence. The tunnel never seems to end, Merlin thought, squinting to peer through all of the mess of heavy green vines and branches that skewed his vision. All he could see was more darkness, and it appeared to be growing even darker by the minute. He whispered a spell into his hand, a shifting, water-like blue ball coming from nothing. It's gentle, ocean-tinted light reflected against everything ahead of them, and when Merlin looked at Arthur, he took note that the man's skin looked blue._

 _"It was you. With the... With that!" Arthur exclaimed, shoving his finger against the bubble as though he expected it would pop. However, it did no such thing. Merlin had no idea what Arthur was talking about, in all honesty, so he gave a skeptical smile and nodded as if in faux agreement. Arthur threw his arms into the air and then let them drop back down to his sides. "I should have known. Out of all the odd things that have happened in the past few years, which of them have not been because of you? Never mind, don't answer that."_

 _"Well, if you really want to know, none of-..."_

 _"Shut up!"_

 ** _"You shut up, prat."_**

 _Merlin's eyes widened as the sentence followed Arthur's command. He hadn't even opened his mouth - he hadn't spoken, someone else had. Someone else was there with them. Arthur didn't seem to notice any change in the conversation and just kept along with it._

 _"You shouldn't speak to your future king like that."_

 ** _"I always have, Pendragon."_**

 _Arthur's senses went on alert. Merlin never called him that, not once. He turned to his friend, looking at him quizzically. Merlin's mouth opened and closed, not unlike a fish, and he put up his hands, shaking his head at the same time. "That wasn't me. Someone's here with us."_

 _"No one is here with us, Merlin! It's your bloody head! Unless you have multiple personalities, or throw brain parties. You forget to let someone out?"_

 _The warlock ignored his comments. He didn't know how, but there was something, another presence. It felt... familiar somehow, but he couldn't quite place it. "Who are you?" He waited for an answer, skittering sideways when a bat flew from the gnarled branches overhead. He bumped against Arthur, glad that he at least knew exactly where the man was now._

 ** _"_ Three hundred gold-torqued men attacked,  
** **Guarding their land, bloody was the slaughter,  
** **Although they were slain, they slew;  
** **And until the end of the world they will be honoured.  
** **And of all of us kinsmen who went together,  
** **Sad, but for one man, none escaped."**

 _The sing-song voice echoed as though it came from the deepest chasm. Merlin felt a cold chill run down his spine, ice freezing his veins. He knew that voice, he knew it well. Very few had heard it in such a manor as this - singing - but he had, and he knew exactly what was going on now. He seized Arthur's bicep. He didn't want to be separated._

 _"Whatever happens, Arthur, don't leave my side."_

 _"What are you prattling on about, Merlin? Who is that?"_

 _"Don't leave my side."_

 _ **"Three hundred gold-torqued,**_  
 _ **warlike, wonderful**_  
 _ **Three hundred proud ones,**_  
 _ **Together, armed;**_  
 _ **Three hundred fierce horses**_  
 _ **Carried them forward,**_  
 _ **Three hounds and three hundred,**_  
 _ **Sad, they did not return.**_

 _ **He pierced three hundred, most bold,**_  
 _ **He cut down the centre and wing.**_  
 _ **He was worthy before the noblest host,**_  
 _ **He gave from his herd horses in winter.**_  
 _ **He fed black ravens on the wall**_  
 _ **Of the fortress, although he was not Arthur."**_

 _There came a laugh as cold as stone. " **Actually, in this case, it**_ **is** _ **Arthur. And our host."**_

 _Merlin all but dragged Arthur backwards._

 ** _"_ A host, fleeing; a host, wounded-**

 **A host, bloody, retreating."**

 _"Enough!" Merlin yelled, surprising Arthur by the sheer volume and anger behind the demand._

 _In response, there was another laugh. Something slithered through the trees above, and both men could see light from the blue sphere glinting against scales. The scales were blacker than the night, and didn't seem to have an end. A form dropped down, now just several yards away from them. Arthur could see its face - it was the face of a snake, beady black eyes staring into his. The prince refused to back down, he would fight this creature. After all, Merlin was supposed to fight his greatest fear, was he not? This was as good a place to start as any. The prince lifted his blade and dropped into a fencing stance._

 ** _"Brave knight, still he would fear the power -  
Wise king, still he knew naught of the treachery -  
_ _Strong man, yet he locked his mind in a tower,  
Young boy, nae he e'er see Ambrosiuis' sorcery."_**

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Lancelot flinched awake, awareness sweeping upon him like a cruel mistress. He gasped, painfully aware of more than just his current reality, but the fact that he wasn't the only one of his brothers that was suffering in such a way. His back was alit. His expression pinched and he tried to find the energy to move, to see if the others were there as well, wherever 'there' was.

"Lancelot? Thank God. Don't try to move."

He didn't think he could if he really wanted to. He only grunted a reply.

"Gaius! Gaius!"

"I am here, Percival. Achilles! do you want to wake the entire castle? What is it?"

"Lancelot is awake."

Hands touched his shoulder, and he was glad for the comforting presence. He sighed. "Is Merlin all right?"

"We don't know. We still don't know."


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Been a** **hard week, so your reviews have been a blessing. :) Thank you much dears. Sometimes if you just get through the night without quitting, that's enough.**

 **Warnings: Some gore**

 _The snake slithered across the empty riverbed, it's thick skin sliding over the cool pebbles beneath it. " **I have one question, Arthur."**_

 _Arthur held his ground, even as Merlin tried to physically drag him away. It wouldn't work. He would face this beast, and more importantly, he would make Merlin face it, because it was becoming evident to the young prince that it was a necessary evil for them to get back into the real world, and he wanted that very much. He flashed the blade in the snake's face, seeing its reflection in soulless eyes. The creature paused, a pink, forked tongue darting out. " **I only have my one question. Answer it."**_

 _"Speak your mind, creature," Arthur spake, straightening his back and momentarily letting his arm - and with it, sword - down by his side._

 ** _"Do you fear me?"_**

 _The young man made a face. Beside him, Merlin stood rigid, his chest heaving from some poorly hidden emotion. His expression was cold and angry, which was something that Arthur found even stranger than being inside the very man's head and answering some giant snake's question. Come to think of it, though, it was all too odd to put into words. "No."_

 _Spitting, the creature roared its head back, mouth gaping open and revealing fangs dripping with venom. Merlin stepped forward, shouting a spell that nearly made the young Pendragon jump out of skin. A blast of air shot forth, managing to blow the snake back several yards, its spindly form seeming to tangle with itself. It was odd, fighting with a sorcerer by his side, but not just that, the fact that the warlock was Merlin. He charged forward, getting just beside the monster's midsection and slashing, black blood oozing out of the fresh wound. He leapt back as it suddenly sprayed out, nearly spattering him._

 _"Arthur!" Merlin yelled, jogging to catch up. The prince waved his servant off; he was fine._

 _" **What have you done!"** The creature howled, black eyes shining golden in the darkness. Arthur's mouth went dry, as though he had just put cotton in it. Great, so the thing had magic. Of course it did. He dropped back into a fighting stance, his expression unchanged and hard. He had a warlock of his own - Merlin, who stood by his side, just as he always had. Arthur realized that now. Merlin raised a hand, his fingers separated and his own eyes beginning to glow and inwardly Arthur shivered at the sight, because he was sure he would never really be used to seeing the young man like that, so very... in control._

 _The snake began to shrink, its scales shifting into what appeared to be a smooth, pale substance. Arthur stepped back, watching in awe despite himself. Merlin looked less impressed, in fact, if anything, Arthur would have thought he seemed concerned as though this would reveal a secret that the young prince had previously been unaware of. He glanced at Arthur, and there lain a silence so deep and dark that the knight took an involuntary step forward. Years of hiding and blame and forfeit, that's what Arthur could see in his friend's eyes, and he didn't like it. Whatever was happening, this had to be what the dragon meant. Merlin had to face his greatest fear, and come what may, this was it. Arthur dug his heels into the sand and stones beneath his feet, facing the morphing beast with a look of resignation and courage. If he killed it, would this all end? Or would that make matters worse? He wouldn't risk it._

 _With a sudden explosion of sound, the snake was gone, vanished into the darkness._

 _Arthur stared out across the cavern._

 _"Well, that was easy."_

 _"It hasn't gone. I feel its presence." Merlin's voice was low as he spoke and he picked his way down the path, the blue sphere hovering over his hand once again and showing the boy's grim face._

 _Arthur followed suit, putting the sword back in its sheath. The noise resounded through the passageway. "What was that?"_

 _"I don't know," Merlin lied, and it was all too obvious. Arthur glared at the back of the boy's head and ended up slapping it, gaining an indignant cry from the young warlock. He spun around on a heel, his eyes blazing. Arthur didn't back down._

 _"You will tell me what it is."_

 _"If I don't?" Merlin asked, searching Arthur's expression._

 _"Don't be a child, Merlin. This is important, and I need to know. Tell me what's going on - that's an order, from your master and prince."_

 _Merlin closed his eyes for a moment and opened his mouth, looking as though he was actually going to speak the whole truth, but before he even got a chance to say one word there was an animalistic growl just outside of the long cavern. Arthur put up a finger to Merlin's lips, effectively silencing him. As far as he had known, snakes couldn't growl, but there the sound came again. He raised his sword and moved forward, nimble over the rocks and through the vines. Merlin followed suit, whisper-yelling Arthur's name, but the prince didn't stop nor slow down for a second. Still, Merlin kept trying, "I need to tell you the truth."_

 _"It'll have to wait."_

 _Merlin shouted, "heofonléoht!" Much to Arthur's surprise, the place lit up as though the dawn had come. At least it would make fighting this animal easier. Several feet ahead, Arthur could now clearly see what he was meant to fight - it was as a tiger, only the size of a Friesian horse. From its stomach blood leaked down onto the soft dirt just outside of the tunnel, a gaping wound from Arthur's sword showing against its fur. He put one foot in front of the other, not having to remember any training with a sword as it was but second nature._

 _"What is your purpose?" Arthur broached, frowning. "If you're here, you're here for a reason. Tell me your reason."_

 _" **My... reason?** **I want you to see just who I am. How much power I hold."** The beast barred its fangs and teetered dangerously, pain from its injury confusing it. " **I could destroy nations. I could level your precious Camelot in an instant."** It narrowed its orange eyes, taking one step forward. Muscles rippled beneath the thick, uniquely patterned coat as his paw landed on the ground. " **I am everything evil, everything that holds hate, every shred of disgust in here."**_

 _In here? Arthur refrained from tilting his head to one side, but confusion still laced his expression. "Enough riddles."_

 _" **I am the cruelty of Emrys. I am the destruction. I am the power. I am any loathe, detesting, of your invaluable** Merlin **."** The things voice shriveled._

 _Arthur swallowed instinctively, his skin crawling. "That's ridiculous," And, God forgive him, he had to look to Merlin as though the man could prove it wrong, say it was just playing tricks, lying. There was no way Merlin could be cruel, or evil, he was just a... he was just... Merlin. His manservant wouldn't meet his gaze._

 _From across the short expanse, the creature faltered, landing on its shoulder with a pained yelp. A growl resonated deep in its throat as it pushed itself up once more, shaking out its long, amber and black fur. " **I will kill you, Arthur Pendragon."**_

 _"This is ludicrous." Arthur snorted and shook his head, sheathing his sword. "Merlin would never do such a thing. You won't hurt me."_

 _Merlin, his Merlin, seized his bicep to draw his attention. "Arthur..." he lowered his voice in warning. "This isn't a joke."_

 _Well, if the only way to pass this test was to get through it, Arthur was ready to do just that. He gave Merlin a shove and hastily, while the servant was catching his balance, went to the tiger. The animal snarled and lunged, unsurprisingly, and swung a large paw out at Arthur. The prince simply closed his eyes, although it went against everything he had ever been taught to do, and he waited. The very instant that claws brushed against his side, the landscape trembled and blurred into one of white light, and much like the first time he had found himself in Merlin's mind, he was thrown from the ground and tossed through the air like a child's doll._

 _He landed on hard, solid substance with a manly grunt. At least that's what he told himself - because it wasn't a whimper, he would never do that, no... The bright light faded, revealing a land of darkness and bones. Everything smelled of decay and burning hair, which he soon realized was because things were on fire, and those things were bodies. He gagged and for a moment let his blue eyes shut before he opened them again and hauled himself up, looking all directions for the tiger. The sooner he got out of here, the better._

 _" **You should never have come."**_

 _Arthur jumped, coming face-to-face with the creature. Wide jaws opened, and before he was fully aware of what was happening, the snapped around his shoulder and flung him into the air. He gasped in pain, trying to reach for his sword - no. That wouldn't be the way out of here, and he knew it. For some reason, deep in his soul he heard a voice that kept reminding him that hurting the beast any worse, or even trying to kill it, would make everything worse. It would solidify something, although he didn't know what. So, despite everything, he trusted his instincts._

 _He was slammed onto the ground and a heavy paw landed on his chest, keeping him pinned down. He choked on a cry of pain. "I... Know you don't really want to do this. This isn't who you are." He coughed out the last word, sucking in a sharp breath through his nose._

 _The tiger growled, its vile, rotten breath blasting in his face. He gagged and turned his head away. "When this is over, Merlin, I'm ordering you to brush your teeth. And chew on... peppermint."_

 _It moved its head back, something flashing in the deep eyes. Really? Arthur could have laughed. Of all the things that could have gotten to it, that was the one? He tried to push the paw off of his chest, only to have the claws dig into his skin in response. He bit his lip to resist the urge to yell._

 _"You don't hate me," he said, meeting the creature's eyes. Did Merlin hate him? Did any part of Merlin hate him? The thought made his stomach sour, not that he was surprised by the thought, what with his and his father's legacy. "You are... many things, but a killer is not among them."_

 _He breathed._

 _"I trust you."_

 _The weight lifted, leaving him on his side gasping for air. He sputtered and clenched a hand over his heart, pained. The claws had gone deeper than he had thought._

 _Before he realized what was happening, hands were guiding his arms away from his torso, spindly fingers moving over his chest. He looked up. Merlin knelt before him, his eyes flashing gold as he spoke, "G_ íeman sárslege."

 _With that, the agony faded into mild discomfort._

 _"Now that I've healed you, what will you do? Hang me for my magic, burn my for my anger?"_

 _All right, so it still wasn't_ his _Merlin. He drew himself up as Merlin did, watching the man's back as he retreated to a dark and gnarly fallen tree. "I won't harm you, Merlin. For either magic nor anger."_

 _From this he gained a hopeful sort of look as Merlin glanced back over his shoulder, pausing by one of the tree roots. Then, the servant slid to his the ground and brought his knees towards his chest, one arm wrapping around his stomach. Arthur frowned and approached carefully, as though coming towards a wild animal. Merlin didn't argue, or say much of anything in fact, only stared off at the piles of burning corpses. The prince came to his side and sat by him, drawing his own knees up and letting his arms drape over them._

 _"Everything I've done, Arthur. You don't even know half of it."_

 _"I don't need to, I still trust you."_

 _"Yes, but you wouldn't. Not if you knew."_

 _Arthur didn't reply. This was going to be harder than he thought. Violent monsters trying to kill him, that he could easily handle, but this? He wasn't sure what to do. Not far off, the young prince took note of a figure making its way through the smoke. All he could see was the wait it held itself - shoulders sagged, head hanging. Several more appeared from nowhere, some of them watching the fires, others talking, and still others yet walking as though they had an endless amount of things to do, just going back and forth with the same bounce and energy in their step._

 _They were all Merlin._

 _All... different parts of him._

 _Merlin hissed from beside him - well, one of the Merlins - and let his head fall back against the tree, his neck exposed. Arthur remembered then the wound he had given to the snake. He shifted, moving forward and around to Merlin's other side, peeling his hand away from his own skin. His expression blanked completely as he saw the full extent of what he had done; what looked to be organs doing their very best to slip out. He quickly covered the injury with both of his hands._

 _"You'll live."_

 _Merlin only snorted._

 _"Why don't you heal yourself? You healed me." Arthur watched as blood pushed its way between his fingers._

 _"I don't want to."_

 _Arthur felt shock run through his veins like an unending cold. He shook his head in confusion, "Why? Never mind. You really are the idiot I always said you were."_

 _"Arthur! Arthur!"_

 _The voice didn't belong to the current Merlin he was speaking with, and didn't seem to be of any of the others he saw... A man dashed through the field, coming to an abrupt halt only a yard away from where Arthur was. The man's face looked both concerned and irritated. "I searched all over for you, you... turniphead. I thought you were dead!" Now_ that _was the Merlin he knew._

 _"No. Come here."_

 _Merlin did just that, cautiously, as though he didn't trust the wounded - well, the wounded Merlin - not to hurt Arthur. He didn't trust himself. Arthur frowned and saved that thought for later. "Heal him."_

 _"...What? He tried to_ kill _you."_

 _Merlin wasn't even surprised by the appearance of_ him _. That must have been what he had been trying to tell Arthur beforehand. "Just... heal him."_

 _The servant's nostrils flared and he fiddled with the lose tassels on his sleeves for a moment before he came around by Arthur's side, crouching and pushing the prince's hands out of the way. He looked over the wound and held his own hands there instead, muttering a quiet incant, "_ _G_ íeman sárslege." _He pulled away, watching his own handiwork as the skin started mending._

 _Tiger-Merlin didn't acknowledge Merlin-Merlin. He instead turned his head, a twisted look coming over his face as though he had been wronged._

 _Arthur was beginning to see a light at the end of this very strange tunnel._

 _Maybe his greatest fear wasn't what Arthur had first thought. Maybe it wasn't some violence, some physical fear, but something deeper._

 _Perhaps, just perhaps, he feared forgiving himself for something. For several things, even. Maybe he feared the idea of forgiving himself, and because of it, making a similar mistake that cost someone or many their life or lives._

 _"You can't be serious." He rubbed a hand over his eyes._

 _Both Merlins shot him an odd look. He dragged in a breath. He supposed he owed it to the man- after all that Merlin had done - to try to help._

 _"If you can't forgive yourself, Merlin, we're never getting out of here."_

 _Merlin, seeming to realize it was far from a time for jokes and was now becoming a pressing matter to tell the truth, ran a hand through his hair and dropped down onto the ground beside Arthur and the other version of himself. "I don't know how."_

 _"Well, just... try."_

 _"That doesn't help," Merlin said, shooting him a look. "I have tried."_

 _"Well, talk to... him." Arthur waved to tiger-Merlin and then stood from the ground. He would give them privacy, and, with any luck (not that he believed in that) they would be back in Camelot within an hour. At least, that was his hope._


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: Thank you Yummypie193 for your suggestion of which side of Merlin you would like to see! I hope you enjoy how it came out. :)**

Gwaine couldn't imagine anything quite so painful. The lashes came every few seconds, and he wasn't sure what was worse, impact or waiting. He rolled his eyes up into his skull and groaned, his bare chest heaving against the wooden pole. He had only gone through, - well, by his count it had been thirty, it could have been less - a little more than half of them. He wasn't sure if he could last through the rest. Oh, the things he would do for his friends. Not that he had many of them, and he was beginning to understand exactly why he had come to that conclusion in the first place. Not many people were worth dying for, but as far as he was concerned, Merlin was. Even Arthur was.

He cried out as the horse hair struck his back again and pressed himself closer to the wood, anything to get away from the pain, not that it would be possible. His face pinched in pain. He choked and clenched his fists, feeling the rope burning his wrists.

"Let him down!"

"But, the king..."

"Let him down, sir Yver."

The bindings were undone and Gwaine felt himself start to fall, knowing full well that no one was going to be there to catch him. He was surprised when someone did, hands pulling one of his arms over their shoulders. The knight grunted, frowning in either agony or confusion, or both. He didn't know who it was, maybe if he could focus on one thing for longer than a few seconds he would have recognized the voice, but as it was... He was just glad that they had made it stop. Whoever it was mumbled words of comfort as they helped him across the courtyard and up into the castle, no doubt taking him to the physician's chambers. Gwaine was sure that at some point his legs had stopped obeying him, because his companion picked him up and slung him over his shoulder. Gwaine stared at the ground and then at the figure's back, seeing a bland brown tunic. That was all he saw of his savior before he black out, overcome by pain.

 **MERLINMERLINMERLINMERLINMERLINMERLINMERLINMERLINMERLINMERLINMERLINMERLINMERLINMERLINMERLINMERLINMERLINMERLINMERLINMERLINMERLINMERLINMERLINMERLINMERLINMERLINMERLINMERLINMERLINMELRINMERLINMERLIN**

 _Arthur was taken by complete surprise when, in his wanderings, someone's arms wrapped around him from the side. Shocked, he did nothing for a moment, but then regained his sense of pride and shoved the person away with a look of confused disgust. He met familiar blue eyes staring back at him, a grin on the person's face - on Merlin's face. The manservant wasn't deterred by Arthur's action, and went for another hug with a cry of 'Arthur!'_

 _"Ah! No!" Arthur held up a hand, slamming it against Merlin's chest to halt him. "No, Merlin." He felt like he was talking to a dog. Thoroughly unnerved, he took a step back. What side of Merlin was this? The clingy one, apparently. This version, which Arthur decided he would dub Clingy, grabbed his shoulder and tilted its head to the side, a smile taking up all of its(his) expression. The prince wrinkled his nose and looked down at the hand, then up at Merlin - no - Clingy._

 _"It's really nice to see you, Arthur."_

 _"...OK. You know what, why don't you go..." Arthur quickly seized Clingy's arms and spun him around in a rough manor, pointing beside the man's face towards a spot far away from Arthur, "over there. Yes, that will be the perfect place for you." Clingy turned his head, crossing his eyes to look down at Arthur's hand. He smiled and then looked back,_

 _"No thanks."_

 _Arthur growled. He hoped Merlin would sort this all out soon, because if he had to put up with these versions for much longer he was going to implode. "Which one are you supposed to be, then?"_

 _"I am the lover."_

 _The prince leaped back as though burned. He gave the other man a weird look. "The what?"_

 _"The lover." Merlin's eyes twinkled - yes, twinkled, Arthur didn't contain a shudder - and explained, "everything in me - in him - that loves. That cares."_

 _"Rrright..." Arthur was really starting to miss Merlin, and not even the Merlin he had been spending the last few days with. That Merlin was tired, irritable, dark, full of secrets and the one the Arthur really was beginning to miss was his manservant, the one that seemed to be both an idiot and wise, that complained about his chores and still got them done, that teased and joked and stood up for things with a sort of bravery that was seen in very few. What he missed was the way things were before he discovered the secret, the truth of what Merlin really was, of what he could do and had done. He missed, in some manor, ignorance. He missed not having to live with the fact that Merlin was a sorcerer, everything his father stood against, and had been lying for all this time. He missed not knowing that one day he would have to banish his best friend._

 _"Arthur, are you all right?"_

 _"Of course."_

 _"You're upset."_

 _"No, I'm_ not _."_

 _"You are."_

 _Arthur sighed and looked back over his shoulder to where Merlin and tiger-Merlin spoke, staring for a long moment. "I miss my servant. Don't," he said, punctually, and put a finger in Clingy's face, "Tell him. I said that. Or... don't remember. Just don't."_

 _This version laughed and pushed Arthur's hand down. "Just give us time. You realize that version of Merlin isn't even fully him, right? He's in his head, which means, all of his personality split when he brought you here. The one you think is Merlin is the Magic. The one he speaks with is the Anger. I am the Lover."_

 _That... was somehow comforting. Arthur wouldn't admit it, though. "When we get out of here, then, he'll be... him?"_

 _"Yes, he'll be 'him'."_

 _"Then tell me... Merlin," Arthur looked back, feeling now as though he had a secret of his own to keep from the very man he spoke to and about, "who do you love?"_

 **MERLINMERLINMERLINMERLINMERLINMERLINMERLINMERLINMERLINMERLINMERLINMERLINMERLINMERLINMERLINMERLINMERLINMERLINMERLINMERLINMERLINMERLINMERLINMERLINMERLINMERLINMERLINMERLINMERLINMERLINMERLINMERLINMERLIN**

Gwaine woke with a gasp. "What happened?" Were the first words out of his mouth, and he tried to sit up, only to remember his plight. He bit his lip and laughed hoarsely, lowering himself back onto the cot and blowing out a long breath.

"I made the wrong choice."

That voice was definitely Leon's. Gwaine sat up, not caring about the pain. He gasped, his legs shaking as he stood, but stood he did. He would face the man head on, he would give him what for, and he wouldn't back... down. His thoughts came to a stuttering halt when he realized what Sir Leon had said, and not only that, what he wore - it was unusual to see the man in anything that wasn't chainmail, armor and a red cape. A frown made its way onto Gwaine's face. "So, I see you came to your senses." He tried for a grin, but ended up closing his eyes in pain, simply trying to breathe through it.

Leon stood from the bench he had been sitting on previously, waiting to see if Gwaine needed help. He didn't approach, though, and good thing, because Gwaine wasn't sure he would be able to stop himself from punching the knight.

"I am sorry, Gwaine. I betrayed your trust. For that, I will always be sorry, and I am willing to pay any punishment. I sacrificed honor for discipline." Leon breathed out a sigh and lowered himself onto the chair once more, but never breaking eye contact with Sir Gwaine. Gaius, from where he stood, looked at both men with an expression of skepticism. Leon chewed on his words before he spoke, and when he spoke he was speaking to both of the men, "I heard about Merlin - from Uther - Gaius. I will take him to safety when he and the prince return. It's the least I can do."

Gwaine made a face and sat down on the cot, "Wait - back up - Merlin? Heard what about him?"

Leon and Gaius looked at each other. Leon meet Gwaine's eyes, shifting uncomfortably. "It's best that... he tell you."

"Tell me what? And where is he?" Gwaine, growing angrier by the second, rose back onto his feet with a gasp of pain.

"I believe," Gaius started, "That he hid both himself and Arthur from the king when Uther came here. I don't know how, but I believe they're still in the same place they were." At least, that was the physician's hope, because otherwise he didn't know what to think. He grew more worried by every passing hour - were they dead? Had something happened that was worse than anyone could possibly imagine? He didn't know, that was the truth.

"Hid? Hid how?" Gwaine pressed, choking on a cry when the skin on his back stretched out, making the wounds look widened and deep red. "Where's Percival and Lancelot?"

"They're in there rooms. There wasn't enough space for you all." Gaius sighed through his nose and shot a distracted glance off towards Merlin's room. He hoped - no, he prayed - that they would return soon, alive.

 **MERLINMERLINMERLINMERLINMERLINMERLINMERLINMERLInMERLINMERLINMERLINMERLINMERLINMERLINMERLINMERLINMERLINMERLINMERLINMERLINMERLINMERLINMERLINMERLINERLINMERLINMERLINMERLINMERLINMERLINMERLINMERLINMERLINMERLIN**

 _It was harder to hear than Arthur could have ever imagined. All of those things, all of those people - what he himself had done to Merlin without even realizing. Memories of things he had told the boy came back to him, leaving a pit in his gut. He felt... he felt... sorry. He was sorry, and tired, and he couldn't wait until things went back to some semblance of normalcy. But things would never be normal again, not by a long shot. His whole world had been turned upside down by realization after realization, and just this once, he was thankful for it. He never wished to be ignorant - an ignorant king would be the death and bane of many, he could see that now._

 _Merlin, this Merlin at least, looked down at his trembling hands and then closed his eyes, his jaw working back and forth. "I wanted to protect Freya. I wanted to know my father. Will had no magic, I did. It was always me. So many... Have suffered, so many have... lied. For me. And I can never fully repay them." Merlin's breath shuddered in then shuddered out, as though he had suddenly grown cold. "I lied and it built and I kept lying, to you, to everyone, until lies made up half of who I am. Better liar than friend, better liar than warlock, better liar than... anything."_

 _Arthur, for one of the rare times in his life, just listened._

 _"I took every wrong turn, and I led everyone into the depths of Hell with only a fourth of their sight." Merlin rubbed his arms. "I'm sorry, Arthur."_

 _"Me too." The prince searched Merlin's face, as though he were seeing him for the first time. "You shouldn't have lied. And you were an idiot. But..." Pained, he forced out the next words, "so was I."_

 _Merlin looked up attentively, and how could Arthur have never seen the pain there before?_

 _"I'm sorry for the way I've treated you. I'm sorry for what you've been through."_

 _"Arthur... I don't blame you. You were only seeing half of the truth, if that. That's something I have to live with."_

 _The prince shook his head, something bursting through his chest like lightening. "How can you say that? You... You've been good to me."_

 _"I believe in you. It's why I've done everything that I have done." Merlin stared back, showing strength and, unsurprisingly from the Lover, love. It rattled Arthur to the core. He was undeserving of the man's respect and love, but despite that, he reciprocated. Maybe it wasn't so terrible that he had learned this way after all - and perhaps, when he was king, they would live as friends - or brothers - instead of the way things had been for so long. Arthur couldn't find it in himself to hate magic, because to hate magic would be to hate Merlin. That was something he wouldn't be able to do._

 _If Merlin was to forgive himself, maybe he needed something to run with. Arthur had just the thing. If Merlin could know his sacrifices and decisions were coming to something, forgiveness would be the natural response._

 _"When I am King."_

 _He breathed._

 _He had all eyes on him._

 _"You and those like you will be free. I give you my word."_

 _The world lit up like the sun in the heavens._

Arthur jolted awake.


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: Thank you all for your feedback, as always! Have a wonderful day. This one is a relatively short chapter, but I hope it cheers you up. :) That is, if you needed any cheering, but anyway... Enjoy.**

 **REVISION: So, thank you very much to a certain reviewer who reminded me I forgot about the stones despite myself... xD *Shrivels up* I fixed it! Me fix it!**

 **Previously**

 _"When I am King."_

 _He breathed._

 _He had all eyes on him._

 _"You and those like you will be free. I give you my word."_

 _The world lit up like the sun in the heavens._

Arthur jolted awake.

 **Now**

Merlin stood off of the bed and immediately wobbled, looking as though he would fall right back over. He frowned in concentration and moved a hand out in order to balance himself. Confusion swam in his eyes, making him look lost along with exhausted, as though he had just woken up from several days of flu. Before he was fully awake someone was standing in front of him, gripping his elbows to help steady him. He blinked the blurriness away and came face-to-face with Arthur, who was anticipating... something.

"You're not going to fall over on me now, are you? Not after all that. I'll make it an order."

The promise. Merlin's heart fluttered then clenched - Albion was so close. A grin grew on his face and he laughed, the sound as genuine as Arthur had ever heard it to be. He reached out to grab the prince's shoulder for a moment before letting go and instead opting for wiping at his face, having not noticed his eyes beginning to swim until it was too late and something warm ran down his cheek. He rubbed at the tears and laughed again. Arthur, as though his servant's reaction was contagious, laughed as well, the sound hearty.

The door burst open and in came Gaius, wearing an expression of pure disbelief and relief. He gaped for several moments before he managed a loud, "Merlin!"

In response, the warlock moved past Arthur and enveloped his friend in a hug, still laughing. Gaius, not knowing what exactly made the man so happy, just returned the embrace with a look of confusion pointed towards Arthur. "Where have you been?" The physician exclaimed, pulling back and looking his ward over from head to toe and then back again. He didn't look to have anything wrong with him, other than looking utterly tired.

"Long story - and we don't have time! We have to break the gems!" With a bouncing step Merlin flew out of the room and down the stairs, but as soon as he reached the main room his mood dampened severely by the sight of Gwaine, his bare, blood-stained bandaged back to Merlin and his head drooped as though he wasn't even awake, despite being sitting upright. Maybe he wasn't awake. Merlin's eyes grew and he looked back at Arthur and Gaius. Arthur hurried at a fast walk (though, it was more of a jog) and stopped in front of his knight. He looked up from Gwaine and to Gaius,

"What happened?"

"Sir Leon happened," Gwaine grunted, wrapping an arm around his middle and trying to stand up. His face collapsed in pain. Arthur snatched his arm to help him stand and Merlin shot forward like a dart, taking the man's other side to help as well.

Gaius, from where he stood, sighed heavily. "Leon told the king."

Merlin, despite himself, felt a stab of betrayal. He had... he hadn't told him about _that_ , had he? About his magic? Did he know, had Arthur told them? He had been asleep for too long, and he had very little idea of what was going on.

"He told him everything," Gwaine said through clenched teeth, looking sideways at Merlin with a grin, "but, it's good to see you on your feet."

Merlin grinned, though it didn't look ecstatic in the least, "It is isn't it."

Arthur helped sit Gwaine back down and then turned in a half circle, one hand going to his waist and the other pinching the bridge of his nose, then waving through the air, "You have to leave now, Merlin."

"I won't leave you, Arthur, I won't."

"You don't have a choice. We'll figure out a better way, but for now, you can't stay in Camelot. Pack your things."

"The stones," Merlin reminded them all, the thought like a sore on his mind. Without his magic, he felt as though he wasn't complete. He was convinced that he had fallen into a coma not because of the stones themselves, not because they had some power to force someone into endless nightmares, but because his magic had been stolen. Without it, he was nothing. At least it had always felt that way - he had never gone without it. Gaius walked across the room and pulled open a hidden shelf, one that even Merlin had never seen before, which in and of itself was fairly surprising. From it, he extracted the stones. Merlin's skin crawled from anticipation.

Arthur took several of them and placed them on the floor, as did Gaius, and even Gwaine did his best to help, even if he only knew half of what was going on.

It took only a few moments for them to figure out a way to break them all at once. Gaius, using magic (a thought that surprised Gwaine, even if he didn't say it, and seemed to unnerve Arthur momentarily) would crush them. Merlin gave him a spell that would do it, and made sure that the physician pronounced it correctly and took a few minutes to help him through a practice run with several old potion bottles. When he had succeeded at breaking them in sync, he directed the power towards the jewels and did his best to go through the exact steps that the young warlock had shown him.

The gems exploded, making Arthur reach for his sword on instinct. The shattered pieces froze mid-air, releasing gold and black colors into the air. The colors swirled around each other as though in some dance they had been performing since the beginning of time, growing outward as though a blooming flower of magic and darkness. Small shards of glass fell to the floor, the necklaces empty and useless, just how Merlin thought they should be.

The gold shot away from the black, slamming against Merlin's chest and disappearing as it melted through his skin. He choked, stumbling back as it knocked the breath from his lungs. Arthur took a hesitant step forward, stopped only by Gaius' warning look. Gwaine, for his part, was now confused and not afraid to let it show in his expression.

Merlin breathed a sigh as his eyes lit up with amber flames.

"I _will_ be back, Arthur."

The royal only returned Merlin's gaze. The look spoke volumes, and was enough.

"Ah," Gaius interrupted, "Sir Leon will go with you. He saved Gwaine from the rest of the flogging, and, he looks to make up for what he's done."

"Flogging?" Merlin choked, and by the look on Arthur's face he could tell the man was feeling the same as he was. Gaius nodded grimly and shot a glance towards Gwaine before he said,

"Percival and Lancelot as well."

The warlock's veins froze with ice. He swallowed roughly. It was because of him that it had happened at all, he should have been more careful, he should have known what the necklaces were for in the first place. Guilty, and since his secret wouldn't matter now, he went to the cot and stood behind Gwaine, beginning the process of peeling off the bandages. The knight gave him a weird look over his shoulder, as though he couldn't quite decide whether or not to let his friend continue with whatever exactly it was he was doing. Especially after the last few minutes, what with the stones and the magic and the young, raven-haired man's eyes turning gold like the sun... Gwaine didn't consider himself a judgmental man, but sorcerers didn't usually bode well. Still. Merlin was different. Merlin was always different than everyone else.

Merlin held a hand out and took a deep breath, drawing power from inside himself and focusing it on the wound. He whispered several words and with them his eyes shone, warmth spreading from his hand and into Gwaine's back, healing the deep lashes, though not all the way. Several of the lighter ones morphed into scars before his eyes. Well, it was better than nothing.

So used to performing magic, he had forgotten for a moment that the knight didn't exactly know about his powers, not like everyone else in the room. When Gwaine turned to him with a jaw-dropped expression, he only smiled sheepishly and shrugged a shoulder.

"You..."

"I'll heal Lancelot and Percival as best I can, _then_ I will leave."

"You have..."

Arthur, as though Gwaine wasn't in shock and trying to speak, said to Merlin, "Thank you." He meant it. Merlin slowly dipped his head, looking graver than Arthur had perhaps seen his servant. As though the thought just struck him, the prince snorted to himself. "You're not really a fall-over drunk, are you?"

"Sorry to disappoint." Merlin rolled his eyes up, moving his lips to one side and putting his hands up for a brief second.

The prince shook his head hid a smirk.

"...Magic."

Merlin glanced at Gwaine then and nodded. With that he ran back into his room, snatched a pack from under his bed and crammed various things inside it, one of which was his spell book. He finished and slung it over a shoulder, running down the few steps and slowing to a fast walk. "Where are they, Gaius?"

"In their rooms. Be careful, my boy."

The warlock's lips quirked up into a slight smile. "I will."

Gwaine started laughing, a hand on his now almost healed back. He shook his head when everyone looked at him as though waiting for an explanation for his guffawing. He looked at the servant with a grin, still chuckling, "You are a sneakier bastard than anyone gives you credit for, Merlin."

Merlin deadpanned. "Thank you." He wagged his eyebrows and then headed off towards the door, only stopped by Arthur catching his arm. The prince turned him around, and, not as hesitantly as one might have imagined, yanked him into a hug. He thumped the warlock's back with a closed fist and then pushed him away, giving him one last nod. Merlin returned the nod and grinned.

"Just... don't be a clutz."

"Don't be a clotpole, Sire."

Arthur rolled his eyes and gave a two-fingered wave.

With that, he disappeared through the door, leaving in such a haste that one might not have known he ever lived there.

At least, until his head peeked back around the door. "Erm... Where might I find Leon?"

Gaius laughed quietly. "He's waiting at the tavern."

"Thank you."

He vanished once more, hurrying down the corridors and doing his best not to be noticed.


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: I had a brilliant idea for where to go with this story and then I forgot. *-* Snort. Oh well! And if ever you read Vita Merlini, all I can think of is Dragoon and how fast he could switch personalities...**

 **Guest review: L: Thank you - I give it my all to finish every story I start, and If I can't finish them I remove them from the site until either I can, or someone asks for the return of the chapters to FFN.**

 **A special thank you to Pezzz, who reminded me that I had forgotten all about the stones during the last chapter... I went back and added a scene, in case you missed it. Here it is,**

 **PREVIOUS CHAPTER:**

 _"You don't have a choice. We'll figure out a better way, but for now, you can't stay in Camelot. Pack your things."_

 _"The stones," Merlin reminded them all, the thought like a sore on his mind. Without his magic, he felt as though he wasn't complete. He was convinced that he had fallen into a coma not because of the stones themselves, not because they had some power to force someone into endless nightmares, but because his magic had been stolen. Without it, he was nothing. At least it had always felt that way - he had never gone without it. Gaius walked across the room and pulled open a hidden shelf, one that even Merlin had never seen before, which in and of itself was fairly surprising. From it, he extracted the stones. Merlin's skin crawled from anticipation._

 _Arthur took several of them and placed them on the floor, as did Gaius, and even Gwaine did his best to help, even if he only knew half of what was going on._

 _It took only a few moments for them to figure out a way to break them all at once. Gaius, using magic (a thought that surprised Gwaine, even if he didn't say it, and seemed to unnerve Arthur momentarily) would crush them. Merlin gave him a spell that would do it, and made sure that the physician pronounced it correctly and took a few minutes to help him through a practice run with several old potion bottles. When he had succeeded at breaking them in sync, he directed the power towards the jewels and did his best to go through the exact steps that the young warlock had shown him._

 _The gems exploded, making Arthur reach for his sword on instinct. The shattered pieces froze mid-air, releasing gold and black colors into the air. The colors swirled around each other as though in some dance they had been performing since the beginning of time, growing outward as though a blooming flower of magic and darkness. Small shards of glass fell to the floor, the necklaces empty and useless, just how Merlin thought they should be._

 _The gold shot away from the black, slamming against Merlin's chest and disappearing as it melted through his skin. He choked, stumbling back as it knocked the breath from his lungs. Arthur took a hesitant step forward, stopped only by Gaius' warning look. Gwaine, for his part, was now confused and not afraid to let it show in his expression._

 _Merlin breathed a sigh as his eyes lit up with amber flames._

 _"I will be back, Arthur."_

 _The royal only returned Merlin's gaze. The look spoke volumes, and was enough._

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Leon rode by Merlin's side, the sound of horses hooves pounding against cobblestone filling the air. The guards didn't even bother looking as if they were about to stop the two, they only continued to stand as though they were not actually men, but indeed statues. The warlock felt a cold chill under his skin as wind bit his face and slipped under his jacket and tunic, making an already cold morning seem that much more frigid. He didn't like the idea of running, but he wasn't adverse to it, because the thought of being burned alive was inherently worse. With a shudder he blocked that thought out, doing his best to avoid thinking about all the men, women and young children who had felt that fate. Unjust as it was, there was now hope. Arthur had made him a promise, and Merlin was determined to make him keep it. The young man beamed as his horse galloped down the path that led to the forest, his heart freer than it had been in some time. Even if things were complicated now, he could handle that, complicated was something that had been a large part of his life for as long as he remembered.

But hope turning to faith?

That was something else. That was something fresh, something new, something that he thanked God or the gods for.

As soon as they reached the trees, the horses slowed to even canters, following one of the well-trodden trails. His gelding leaped over a fallen tree, Leon and his steed following just several seconds later. Merlin felt his lips freeze in the place of a smile, his teeth drying out from the air blowing hard against them. He was sure that he looked as Gaius did when Merlin had used the wrong spell, instead of waking him up from Morgana and Morgause's spell, making him grin. He spent a moment working on ridding himself of the stuck expression.

The next few hours would be spent in silence as both men worked through their own thoughts, but when they did speak, they spoke of where they would go, Merlin first saying,

"We can go to Ealdor. It's safe there."

Leon countered this with his own words, "That will be the first place the king will search. Even in Cenrid's land. There is very little he would not do to apprehend a sorcerer."

Merlin reached a hand down to pat his horse on the neck, the extremity coming back covered in the animal's fur and sweat. "We have to stay somewhere close to Camelot, if not still inside it. I'm not going to leave alone Arthur for God knows how long, he could be killed."

The knight's brow furrowed. His horse danced away from Merlin's, the cold air giving her energy and a little too much of it. He tapped his heels into her side to course correct. "I know a place. It's inside the kingdom, but not on any of the patrol paths. Follow me." He turned his horse south and began at a trot, the manservant in tow.

"Why are you helping me? I know you're place has always been beside the king, and by Arthur. Knighthood seems to be everything to you." Merlin urged his horse into a faster speed in order to catch up with the man. Leon squared his shoulders and visibly chewed on a response,

"When Gwaine was released before his punishment was finished, the king was among the first non-eye witnesses to hear of it. I was stripped of my knighthood."

Merlin stared for a long moment. Leon wasn't a knight anymore? He frowned slightly, both annoyed and guilty. But, no, he told himself, there was nothing to be guilty for. He didn't conjure the magic-stealing stones, he didn't start this mess, and he certainly didn't ask for anything that followed. Whatever happened was because of Uther, because of that seller, and because of decisions. He shook the thoughts loose from his mind and then used his knees to push his backside from the saddle, putting one free hand on the saddle horn while his other nestled safely in the gelding's mane with the reins. "I'm sorry, Leon."

"As am I." Leon looked quietly frustrated, but it didn't come through his voice. "I shouldn't have told the king of Arthur's plan in the first place - now I must bear the consequences."

"Yes," Merlin snipped, his eyes widening as his lips turned into a mirthless and tight smile, "Th _at_ was a bit..." He hissed through his teeth and tilted his head, searching for the right word and then meeting Leon's gaze, "birdbrained."

The knight - the former knight, Merlin reminded himself - actually snorted and stared for some long seconds as though he wasn't sure what to think of being on the receiving end of the servant's wrath. He had seen Arthur face it many times, even some of the other knights, but usually it wasn't directed at Leon. The man shook his head somewhat and then returned to looking off at the woods, navigating through the terrain. There wasn't a trail that would lead to the hidden caves, so he was going solely on memory, and the last time he had been to that place had been as a child with Arthur and Guinevere.

"Do you actually know where we're going," Merlin said, pausing for breath, "or are you leading us around in circles? Because I'm pretty sure I saw that exact boulder just a few minutes ago."

Leon was _immensely_ unsure what to make of being on the receiving end of this. Merlin seemed to be having banter withdrawal.

"You know, maybe we should just stop somewhere and ask for directions. Or, you could stop thinking like a... What are you doing?" Merlin watched as Leon turned around, weaved his horse through several of the trees and then confidently asked for a canter. "No, go ahead, leave me behind why don't you," Merlin complained under his breath and then clicked, tapping his heels against his horse's sides. The creature jumped into a gallop, nearly unseating the man. He leaned forward to catch his balance and then straightened his back, looking briefly at the ground rushing beneath him.

"It's not as though I'm not used to that. Arthur does it all the time. Go head, forget I even exist!"

Leon somehow heard his grumbles, despite them being quiet and the wind blasting in their faces. He shot a strange look over his shoulder and then continued forward when he saw Merlin's return smile.

When he finally did slow, Merlin could see why. There was a small hillside, and just on the other side of it were several caves lined up symmetrically. Well, he thought, caves were better than nothing. They walked down in silence, the horses focusing on making it down the muddy hill without slipping. They arrived at the bottom and dismounted, taking all of the tack off of both horses and tying them to nearby trees. Merlin made sure the knots would come down if the animals spooked, found a place for the tack, and then jogged to where Leon was standing by the rocks. There would be a short climb through the boulders and then they would be in the caves, and with any luck, no one would discover them still in Camelot. The warlock and his traveling companion began their short climb.

Nearly at the top, Leon looked over his shoulder to see the other man struggling to get over the last few rocks, his fingers clawing at the smooth surface. Leon knelt at the edge of the cavern and grasped Merlin's elbows, hauling him up the rest of the way. The warlock only made a sound that was somewhere between a grunt and a thank you.

When they turned, they were met by the sight of something Merlin had hoped to never see again -

A creature as tall as Leon but twice the size around, its skin covered in grey and purple lumps, endless amounts of snaggled, white hair and what Leon could liken to nothing other than... tusks.

That had _definitely_ not been there the last time.

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Arthur found himself pacing the length of his room, a fist pressed against his lips and his other hand gripping the bend of his elbow. George, from where he stood only several feet away, watched him with passive, unexpressive look. He had to be the complete opposite of Merlin; dispassionate, indifferent, and with an unnatural love of chores. Merlin would have been making some joke by now, and it would have eased the pressure on Arthur's heart. But as it was, he had George, and he would have George for who-knew how long.

Uther had heard of his sudden reappearance and requested his presence in the throne room, in front of the court. This couldn't possibly be good. He just hoped that it wasn't about magic, because if it was, he didn't know what he would do. Lie? What was the point? Leon had told the king almost everything there was to know, about the stones and about Arthur and about the other knights involved. Uther knew what it meant. It meant that Merlin had magic, and Arthur had harbored a sorcerer, but not only that, he had risked his life and right to the throne. The young prince found that he did that all too often - for Gwen, for other friends, _even_ for Merlin.

Of course, Merlin was his best friend (not something he would admit aloud, that would be ridiculous). It was the obvious choice to help him. Especially since he had done nothing wrong.

There was a knock on the door and then Sir Lionell's head peered around the corner. "The King demands your presence now, Sire."

Arthur dipped his head, mustered his courage, and then made his way to the throne room. If he could face dragons and immortal armies, he could face his father's anger. He had done so many times before. When he arrived inside the room, several people were lined up on either side by the walls. Gaius was among them. He met the physician's eyes, having a silent conversation - from what he could tell, Gaius had already been questioned, most likely in private. Why was Arthur not afforded the same dignity? Well, because he was the son of Uther Pendragon, and by all rights he _should_ have known better. Maybe the simple fact was that he had known better - he had known better than his sire.

"Prince Arthur - you have been found guilty of aiding a sorcerer in his attempt to destroy Camelot, and all of the beliefs that _I_ have built. The law is in place for a reason, and should never be broken or bent for the whims of the few."

Uther's words shocked him. He opened his mouth, but it seemed that nothing wanted to come forward in his defense, as the only things running through his mind were - _Merlin wasn't trying to destroy Camelot, he has only ever worked to save it. Merlin is a good man, not the evil sorcerer Uther saw. Where did he get that idea?_ He pushed away those thoughts, as they would do very little good in this instance. He stood up straighter and drew in a calming breath, addressing the king, "My lord, I have done no such thing."

"Do not pretend you haven't done this thing, Arthur," Uther seethed, a deep pain settling in his eyes. Arthur had to wonder, had his heart always been so cold? The knight remembered times when the king was just a father. Not a king, not a royal, not a leader and not an avid hater and hunter of all things magical. Just a father. But those moments were few and far between.

"If you must accuse me of something, I want you to accuse me of something that is real." Arthur turned and looked at all of the faces around him, meeting all of their eyes even if they quickly looked away. He could see shame, fear, pain, disbelief. "I have never aided a sorcerer. At least, not the kind that all of you know of. Perhaps some get their power from demons, but some are born with it - and that power can come only from God. Would you defy the God of the Book in saying that He could not possibly know what He is doing? Would you kill innocents in order to ease your own conscience of the wrongs you have done?" Arthur made sure all of them had equal opportunity to taste the truth in his words, continuing to look at all of them. "Some deserve to die. But, then," he paused - almost everyone in this time was afraid of the Church and bowed beneath its beliefs, even if they had no faith themselves, "if we put judgement on these, we must put the same judgement on ourselves. How many of you have considered magic? How many of you have longed for power, not caring who or what got in your way? I would stake my life on the claim that half of you have even used magic in some form or another. Why, then, are we allowed to be hypocrites? Why are we allowed to reign unchecked by the _people?_ "

"You would have a democracy?" One of them spoke, sounding shocked to the core.

"That is not what I said."

Uther stood from his throne, his face twisting into one of a madman. "Enough!" He roared, effectively ending the speech and all its worth. Arthur hid a cringe at his father's reaction, and much more from his anger. "I have heard. Enough. Guards - take him to the dungeons. Your punishment will be decided by the court, and the trail will resume in the morning. Do not think that just because you are my _son_ ," Uther paused, his expression for a moment returning to one of sanity before it hardened, "that you will receive a punishment any less than deserving for your crime."

"Father..."

"Take him!"

Hands gripped his arms and began directing him towards the door, but he angrily shoved them off. He would gp with dignity and honor, even if no one else would give him that much of their own accord.

He would gladly pay with his life, if it meant standing firmly by his beliefs.


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: Between relatives finding they have cancer and work and friends losing loved ones this has been a heck of a few days... *Drops dead* Ya know? But I hope this comes out well! Tell me if you enjoy it!;)**

Leon, for one, had never expected to see that familiar beast ever again. At least he had hoped that he wouldn't. He reached for his sword and tugged it free from its sheath, dropping into a fighting stance as the creature snarled at him. Beside him, Merlin tensed, raising a hand. At one point Leon might have thought it just a defensive stance, an odd one at that, but now he knew it was more than just that. It was _off_ ensive.

"We didn't come to harm you," Merlin spoke in a quiet but threatening tone. Leon tried not to remember what had happened with one of these creatures the last time - Uther had married it, of course, but besides that, it had nearly ruined the kingdom. "We are just looking for somewhere to stay."

"To stay?" The creature's lip drew over large, rotten teeth, "I don't want your reeking stench here."

Merlin drew in a long, deep breath. "All I ask... is for your hospitality." _That_ was strange, Leon thought, listening quietly nonetheless, "I am Emrys. I, helping Arthur Pendragon, will bring magic back to these lands. A creature like yourself must find some necessity in that. Besides, it would be much easier to find _gold_ if Albion does come to existence. All I ask from you is a place to stay. You won't have to put up with us for long."

"Gold?" The troll perked up instantly, its eyes growing round. It growled, grunted, snorted and huffed in thought before bobbing its ugly head, conceding. "Fine. On one condition. You give me all the coins you now possess."

"Deal."

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Arthur wrinkled his nose as a rat scurried across the floor in front of him. He moved farther against the wall. From just outside the dungeon, he heard the jingling of keys as the guards unlocked the door, and instantly he stood up from his bed of straw with hope in his eyes. Maybe his father had come to his senses - or, offered a quiet voice that sounded suspiciously like Merlin on one of his pessimistic days, maybe he decided you would be executed. No, the prince refused to believe that. His king could be cruel, but he wasn't evil. Misguided, yes.

He was led all the way to the throne room, where the council had convened. Definitely not a good sign. He supposed this was just his trial, bumped up a few hours before it was supposed to take place. He looked around, meeting Gaius' eyes and hoping that his true feelings wouldn't show. He didn't want anyone to know how he felt, he didn't want to show any kind of weakness. He squared his shoulders and met the king's eyes, watching as the man rose from his chair and walked around it, his gloved hand running over the back.

"I have... Decided your punishment."

Arthur didn't speak. It would most likely just make things worse.

"You will be banished," Uther's eyes filled with sorrow and exhaustion. Arthur's jaw dropped,

"Banished?! Father!"

"Just... just until you have paid for your sins. When that day comes, you will know your mistakes, and I will welcome you back with open arms. But until then, Camelot cannot have an heir who is prepared to conspire with sorcerers."

Arthur felt a stab of disbelief. He took only the shortest of moments to compose himself, and then stood up straight and met his parent's gaze. Fine. That would be the way of things, and the prince was willing to accept it. He could devise a plan later - pretend that he had come to his senses, or just come back and act as if he had changed his opinion in the weeks of banishment. Yes, he decided, that would work. He could wait for such a short time. "I will leave immediately."

"I will have a servant pack your things."

"That won't be necessary."

The king nodded and then walked away from his throne, approaching his son. He reached an arm out in a welcoming manor, and despite knowing exactly what the gesture was for, Arthur pretended he didn't even notice. He turned on a heel before his father was close enough to touch him and started walking towards the open doors, frustration boiling under his skin. Everything just seemed... ridiculous. It was all completely ridiculous.

 _Merlin_ had _magic_.

 _Arthur_ had stood up for a _servant_ , against his _father_ , for _magic._

He was being banished _because_ of it.

When he started laughing, he didn't care if the whole court thought him mad.

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As the council began leaving the room, Uther pulled aside one of his most trusted knights, looking over both of his shoulders to ensure no one else was listening in. When he spoke, his brow furrowed and his hand tightened around the man's bicep.

"Follow Arthur. He will lead us to the boy."

"Yes, my lord."

Sir Galin bowed from the waist and then left, leaving the king to his thoughts. If nothing but bad was to come of this situation, Uther was determined to at least find this _Merlin_ and have him hanged. The sorcerer had warped the mind of his only son, turning Arthur to having trust and faith in magic. All of these years the boy had lived under their roof, become close friends with the prince, and weaseled his way into every aspect of castle life. Merlin was trying to take the king's only remaining child, and he would lose his life for ever daring it.

Uther would make sure of it.

 **Second A/N: All right, it's short and not as great as it could be, of all the chapters it's probably the least but... *Hides in shame* *Smiles sheepishly* Oh well-s!**


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: Almost sixty reviews? That was a bit of a shock - in the best way! :) Thank you all. I'm debating writing a werewolf fic after this - and all that entails - if you have thoughts on that, if you'd like to read it or what sort of plot you would want, please tell me.**

 **I decided Arthur gets to have some of his own adventures this time, and having grown up with trail riding and horses myself, I figured this would be somewhat fun to write... Enjoy! Thank you again.**

The cavern stank of the most unspeakable smells, making it hard to breathe. Merlin covered his mouth and nose with a hand, doing his best not to think about the current situation. Across from he and Leon, the troll sat with a mound of steaming dung, paying very little attention to its guests. Maybe convincing the creature that they needed to stay there hadn't been the best idea, and in all honesty, Merlin hadn't thought it would work, even with the promise of gold. But, it seemed that the beast cared more about its love of wealth than its hatred of humans.

From where Leon sat, the once-knight looked visibly disgusted. Merlin couldn't disagree, but at least the warlock was trying to hide it.

The troll leaned forward, brandishing a pile of its meal in a lumpy hand. He, she, it offered the morsel to the wizard who shook his head and turned partially away, gagging deep in his throat. "I'm full, thanks."

Shrugging, the creature continued eating.

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The mare pranced beneath Arthur, shaking her head in anticipation. The prince patted her neck and then asked for a canter, the sound of her hooves against cobblestone filling the air. He wasn't even surprised. He wondered if he could be surprised by anything at all anymore, after the things he had learned the past few months, from Morgana to Merlin and everything in between, before and after. Was he a fool for never seeing these things before it was too late? Merlin had even said, outright, that he was a sorcerer. Once, maybe twice, who knew, he could have even said it more than that and Arthur had never paid it any mind. Perhaps if he had worked it out before the last few events, all of this would not have happened. Would he have kept the warlock's secret, though? There was a good chance he wouldn't have. Things must have worked out for the best, because at least this way, no one was lying to him anymore.

Not that he knew of, at least.

Llamrei, his horse, sped up with every step and Arthur didn't bother to slow her down. His father had banished him, and for what? Well, he knew why. He had known the possible price when he had decided to take the stones and he knew the reason that this was happening was, in effect, his fault. He had taken the gem, despite being wary of it. He had continued to wear it instead of locking it away somewhere, which, in turn, had been the reason that Merlin had nearly died - very nearly - and he had asked the knights for help, which, had made Leon's conscience tell him to inform the king, which he had done, and that had almost killed three of Arthur's best knights, not to mention it forced Merlin to leave Camelot. Not that Arthur wouldn't have made him do that anyway. He wasn't sure he could keep up pretenses with a magic-user in Camelot, as his own personal manservant.

He saw wrong choices everywhere he looked. Arthur was frustrated. He wound his hands, and the reins, into Llamrei's mane and leaned forward, digging his heels into her side. She jumped forward, somehow managing even more speed than she already had been going at. He needed a plan, one that would make everything somewhat okay once again. Something that would return the king's faith in him. But he couldn't ignore what he now knew, and he couldn't stand by while Uther killed innocents.

Arthur wasn't going to go so far as to say he was a friend to magic - but, Merlin had said he _was_ in fact magic, and the prince did consider _him_ a friend. Things change. Sometimes, they change overnight. Other times, they change over the course of a lifetime. He still wasn't sure which this was.

When the hairs on the back of his neck began to rise, he risked a glance over his shoulder. There was no one there, but the feeling didn't subside. He slowed Llamrei to a trot, going away from the main path and down a thin trail, one that - if he remembered correctly, and he did - was quite rough terrain, and even the bravest of riders struggled to manage. If his instincts were right, this was the better path for him to take. He wasn't going to be followed, especially not by one of his own knights. Despite feeling as though he could never read the people around him, he knew his father well, and he knew the likelihood that the king would just let him traipse out of Camelot on his own was very small, for one reason or another.

The path dipped into a trench and then rose on the other side, steep as a mountain. He had ridden this trail many times as a teenager, when he wanted something adventurous and still relatively safe. Llamrei began half sliding, half trotting down the hill, her hooves digging into the ground and her rump dropping closer to the dirt. Arthur leaned back, hoping to help balance the animal. As soon as they reached the end they began the climb upwards, her muscles bunching and then lengthening as she lurched up the first several feet of the incline. Skillfully, the mare dodged gnarled roots and gopher holes. Arthur shifted his weight forward, somewhat over her shoulders, and then straightened when they reached the top. If anyone planned on following him, they weren't going to have an easy time of it.

Several trees had grown close together, just wide enough for Llamrei to fit through, but not wide enough for the prince's legs. He drew them up onto the saddle, rolling his eyes as he imagined all of Merlin's spindly limbs trying to imitate the movement. And then he remembered that Merlin was not with him. In fact, not only was he not with him, he was most likely long gone and would be for months or years to come. Indefinitely. An ache grew in Arthur's chest, but he tried to ignore it; he wouldn't miss Merlin, that would be ridiculous, at least, that's what he tried to convince himself of.

He moved back into his designated position as soon as they had passed through the oaks, then looked out on the narrow trail ahead. There was a cliff drop on the right side, and a wall of dirt on the left. He clicked to Llamrei and gave her more rein, letting her pick her way over the path. It was short enough and they reached the other side in a matter of minutes, which led off into more trees.

When he heard a man yelp and scrambling, as though a horse had spooked and nearly sent its rider over the edge of the cliff, he was certain his father had sent someone out after him. Llamrei weaved through the bushes and other plants, and Arthur couldn't imagine that the knight who followed would be able to keep up, much less track these movements. Although, her hoof prints were obvious against the dirt.

Arthur stopped his horse about a mile later and dismounted, taking her behind a line of trees and then ducking from bush to bush. Heavy breathing filled the clearing just several feet from where he was, and a moment later he saw a knight and his grey steed walk through the area. He drew his sword from its sheath and waited until the man was closer, then reached out, pulling him effectively off of his horse. The animal leaped away from Arthur, nostrils flared, and darted off into the woods. No doubt the horse would go back to the stables.

The prince held the blade to his knights throat - with no intention of causing harm, of course - and waited until the man regained his senses enough to recognize the blond. When Arthur saw recognition spark in his eyes, he spoke,

"Remind my father who trained the men - he insults my honor. Then make sure he knows that I have no idea where Merlin is, and I wouldn't lead him there anyway."

With that, Arthur hauled his knight off of the ground and then gave him a shove in the direction of the castle. He walked back to Llamrei, mounted, and then galloped onto one of the less challenging trails.

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Merlin gagged, just a moment away from dry heaving. His hand found the rocks and he used them to balance himself as he leaned forward, staring down at the ground below. The afternoon sunlight shone against his skin, and its warmth was much more pleasant than the darkness of the cave. Well, he supposed, it was better than nothing. But sharing a camp with a troll was even worse than dealing with Arthur and his unsavory habits.

Leon appeared by his side, looking simultaneously amused and concerned. "Are you alright Merlin?" He asked, laughter in his voice.

The warlock shot him an unhappy look and then slipped a tense smile in place, nodding while blinking rapidly, "I'm just wonderful, Sir Leon." He leaned forward again, pressing one hand against his stomach as it roiled.

The knight laughed quietly in return and then clapped the servant on the shoulder. "When Arthur is king, I don't believe things will be this way."

"Thank God for that because I'm not spending the rest of my life with a _troll,_ "

Leon laughed again, to which Merlin responded with an ornery gleam in his eye,

"-And our new friend."

The other man actually gaped for a moment. Merlin grinned to himself and then stood up, dabbing at his mouth with the back of his hand and his jacket sleeve. "Well, I'm going to talk to our host. Maybe she knows somewhere else we can stay."

"She?"

"It's a she."

"I thought it was a he." Leon frowned.

Merlin shrugged and walked backwards into the cavern. Truth be told, he didn't know which it was.


	17. Chapter 17

**Review replies:**

 **Quill: Muchas gracias. :) Enjoy!**

 **A/N: Aaaahh you're all wonderful! But without further adieu...**

 **WARNINGS: Self-harm.**

Darkness had replaced Uther's dreams, but when he did indeed dream, he saw golden eyes. Emeralds lighting up with the familiar glow, leaving him feeling empty, shocked and off. Somehow. Then he would wake, finding himself in his chambers and everything as normal as it always seemed to be. But it wasn't normal. Things hadn't been normal since he was a child - he had spent his life building a kingdom, riding the land of magic, and ruling. That had been his life for as long as he could remember. The purge had been a success, despite the repercussions. Camelot was, generally, at peace and safe from sorcery.

The king had succeeded where others had failed. It was something he was proud of, but what was the cost of it? He had a family, yes, but his family had been torn apart over and over again because of the very things he had fought so long to build. Once, Uther had even welcomed magic, and to think of it sent shivers down his spine. He had even trusted it. It was the reason his wife was dead, his child was without a mother, and Morgana... Morgana. The thought came with a blow to his heart, not unlike the blade of a sword, he imagined.

He had loved her, and she had betrayed him, and everyone.

At first, all he had felt was the loss - there was no magic involved in that, he didn't think about magic. He thought about Morgana. He thought about his daughter. He had thought about her hatred, and about betrayal, and that was enough to press down on his soul and send him into the very deepest reserves of his mind. If he went there, he would never come back, he knew as much, which was why he did all that he could to stay conscious, aware, and far away from any kind of realizations.

Those attempts didn't always work.

Sometimes, he was left with nothing else but the raw pain. No one else was dealing with his demons, no one else dealt with his mind, his secrets and the horrors he had seen. No one. Some days, that was all he had. Though he tried to be the same man he always had been - strong, noble - he felt that slipping away, each and every day it was farther and farther away. One of these days, he imagined, he would wake up to find himself gone, leaving a shell and a broken mind, even worse, a broken heart. He could see it coming, and he rued the day. He rued a lot of days. His rule was coming to an end, and he was the only one who could see it. Even Gaius didn't seem to fully see the state of Uther's head, and the physician had always seemed to see everything about everyone.

Uther lit a candle and moved to his desk, hoping to get something accomplished instead of lingering in his thoughts.

It didn't work. The moment he sat down, all he could think about was the aching in his heart and in his head, even in his muscles. It was as if heartbreak was a disease that poisoned the whole body.

He had banished Arthur. Why? Sometimes, even he was at a loss for why he did the things that he did. It had been right, he told himself, because he needed to find Merlin and have him killed before he did any more harm. That was something that could drive him on. At least, that was the hope - his hope. Something to fight for. Something to live for. Because, God help him, Arthur wasn't enough. It wasn't a lack of anything on the prince's part, no, instead it was the inability to open and share life with another living being. Igraine had been the last person to know him; to really know him, and he wanted to keep it that way. The way he was once couldn't be the way he was now, if he were to continue ruling Camelot he needed to keep himself locked away, under layers of hatred and coldness, because if one day someone was to see into his heart, they would see fear.

Not just fear.

Terror and death and evils that were beyond imagination. In truth, he wasn't sure how they had gotten there in the first place. What he really wanted was respite - maybe Gaius could make some concoction that could cause him to forget everything. No, that would be too convenient. Convenience always brought consequences beyond first anticipation, and Uther had sworn to himself that he would never settle for easy again, not after the death of his wife and the reason for it.

He picked up his quill pen, the sharp nib looking sickeningly enticing.

He was losing his mind, and even he knew it.

The man slammed it down and rubbed a hand over his forehead, staring down at the parchment on his writing desk. Why was everything taken from him, always? Had he done something so wrong that caused the whole world to despise him? He was cursed, doomed to pain and sorrowful repetition. If it wasn't one thing going wrong, it was another. He had to stay strong, he told himself that as a mantra, but it didn't do anything this time. This time, nothing would ease the pressure that seemed to grow with every breath and beat of his heart.

If he couldn't convince himself to think straight, maybe he could _bleed_ the problem from his throbbing veins.

Uther picked up the pen, and, with a mad snarl on his face, he thrust it into his wrist.

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As the morning came, both Merlin and Leon agreed that they would leave, neither of them willing to stay another day in the cave. The troll didn't care one way or another, so, they packed up their things and climbed down the rocks. After the horses were fed they mounted and began riding again, this time with the goal of circling around to check and see if the patrols were still being sent out to search for them. Dangerous as it would be, they both agree to look, as if the patrols were still searching than it wouldn't be safe to head to Ealdor. If, however, Uther had decided it wasn't worth the trouble, than they wouldn't endanger anyone by going to the village now.

Merlin yawned and covered it with a fist, doing his best not to fall asleep while riding. Needless to say, he hadn't had a good night's sleep, what with all of the farting and grunting (not Leon - the troll).

"You're not going to fall asleep on your horse, are you Merlin?" Leon asked with a smile. He appeared more energetic than his traveling companion, that is if one didn't see the fat, purple bags beneath his eyes. "Too much noise last night?"

"Too much everything. Too much sound, too much smell - not just the troll, either, you're hardly better than she - he - it was."

"You really shouldn't speak to me that way, Merlin," Leon said, sounding grumpier than normal. No doubt he didn't sleep either.

"You're not a knight anymore, that means you're down here with the rest of us." Merlin stretched, his joints popping as he did so. The horse sped up when he moved and he took a moment to slow her down again. "

Leon frowned, far from happy because of the reminder.

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Arthur headed north - the farther away he could get from the citadel, the better. It would take longer to get back to Camelot that way, and, in response, would give the king time to think things over and perhaps come to believe that Arthur had changed his mind about magic. Which, of course, he had not.

Trust Merlin to always make his life harder.

The prince shook his head.

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A rustle in the trees ahead put Merlin's senses on high alert. He was about to warn Leon, but by the way the man stopped his horse and dismounted, drawing his sword from the saddle sheath and watching the forest intently, he knew there was no need. He almost didn't get off of his own horse, but with a look of irritation and discomfort he dismounted, landing with a quiet thud. His knees nearly collapsed on him.

He raised a hand, listening to the noise growing ever closer.

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Arthur burst through a line of rather thick brush, coming into a clearing that he had first thought would be empty, but much to his surprise, it was already inhabited by none other than Sir Leon and Merlin, who appeared to be waiting for someone. Before he had a chance to say or do anything, a force slammed against his chest and sent him flying off of Llamrei and onto his backside, pain blossoming in his back. He coughed, his eyes going wide as he fought for the breath that refused to draw into his lungs. He hated having the wind knocked out of him.

As soon as the air came back into his lungs, he yelled at the top of his voice,

 **"Merlin!"**

Things really hadn't changed that much after all.

In shock, Merlin choked out a reply. "Arthur!"

The servant's angular face appeared above him, replacing the much more pleasant sight of the clear blue sky. "Arthur!" He repeated, then went on, "I didn't know it was you! Are you hurt?"

" _Am I hurt?_ What do you think I am, a _fairy princess_? I can take a fall, _Mer_ lin!" With that Arthur lashed out, hooking his leg around the younger mans' and pulling them out from underneath of him. Merlin fell over with a surprise yelp, toppling sideways and crashing down over the royal. Arthur wrapped an arm around Merlin's throat and hauled him onto his chest, keeping him trapped and in a headlock. The warlock gagged, complained and squirmed all the while, his fingers tugging uselessly at Arthur's forearm.

"Ow!"

"Have you learned your lesson yet?"

"Yes, yes!"

With that, the prince pushed Merlin off of himself. "You were supposed to be out of the kingdom." He helped himself stand and grabbed the back of Merlin's brown jacket, hauling him up as well. "For once, I'm almost glad you didn't listen to me."

"I'm almost glad too," Merlin replied.

And to think, Arthur had actually been _missing_ him for a while there.


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N: I was deep in my writing-zone and then the dog leaped up and started barking and it was at night and scared the crap out of me...**

 **Previously**

 _The man slammed it down and rubbed a hand over his forehead, staring down at the parchment on his writing desk. Why was everything taken from him, always? Had he done something so wrong that caused the whole world to despise him? He was cursed, doomed to pain and sorrowful repetition. If it wasn't one thing going wrong, it was another. He had to stay strong, he told himself that as a mantra, but it didn't do anything this time. This time, nothing would ease the pressure that seemed to grow with every breath and beat of his heart._

 _If he couldn't convince himself to think straight, maybe he could bleed the problem from his throbbing veins._

 _Uther picked up the pen, and, with a mad snarl on his face, he thrust it into his wrist._

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"Not there! Set him here." The knights went to laying Uther down on one of the cots, the one that the physician had directed them to. When they had found the monarch early that morning, blood had covered him, his desk, and even the floor. Gaius wore a frown as he picked up the man's wrist and gently cleaned it with a wet cloth, hoping that the action would allow him to see the extent of the damage. It was worse than he had thought it would be. Actually, that wasn't true. He had known just what it would look like, as he had seen this kind of wound before. He wasn't sure what had driven Uther to do this, but he had cut his own flesh.

'Stabbed' was more accurate.

"Will he recover?" Asked one of the knights. Gaius didn't know his name. "Should we sound the warning bells?"

"No, and it's too early to say. Give me room and speak of this to no one."

Both knights looked nervously at each other before giving slight bows and then exiting the chamber, shutting the door quietly, almost as though they were afraid that noise would make the situation worse. As soon as they were gone, Gaius picked up a needle and placed it over a candle fire, waving it above the flames before threading it, which was a tedious process, given that his eyes strained to see what he was doing. The physician started stitching the ragged wound. He only hoped he wasn't too late, after all, it seemed as though the king had been bleeding for hours, and it was a miracle that he wasn't already dead. In another reality, Gaius imaged the guards entering the king's room to find his body as cold as a winter's night.

That hadn't happened. There was still a chance to save him, however slim that chance was, and Gaius intended on doing everything he could to fix the situation. Still, despite everything, Uther was Gaius' friend, and he couldn't imagine the royal ever wanting to hurt himself. When he was angry or sad, he took it out on others without fail. It made very little sense to the physician, but he knew well enough just what horrors the other man had seen, and how those things could drive anyone, even the strongest, to irrational actions that hurt them as well as those around them. It wasn't a rarity. It was a reality.

Finishing with the injury, he went to digging through his many shelves in search of something that would help with the reproduction of blood, but the longer he looked the less he felt that any of his medicines could do anything. Gaius looked over his shoulder, feeling the itchy material of his red robe rubbing against his throat as he did so. The king's hands were crossed over each other and laying on his stomach while his body was lying straight and stiff, his position that of a man positioned after death. His skin looked to be kissed by the moon itself, and other than the purple smudges beneath his closed eyes, there was barely any color to his flesh.

Gaius felt his heart drop and his gut twist. This was no ordinary happening. It crawled under his skin like a flesh-eating beetle and stayed there, determined to drive him to the darkest reserves of his mind, to remind him of things that he wished never to recall again. He wanted nothing to do with those thoughts. He wanted only to help the king, and help him in the present, and yet memories and feelings of dread and helplessness ran rampant through his chest as an indescribable sorrow and regret, the kind of regret that is born not just of a personal mistake, but of a situation that was unchangeable and unforgettably ghastly.

 ** _Twenty four years prior_**

There was no changing what had happened. Not now.

Igraine was dead, Uther was a single father, Arthur was a cursed child, and Gaius knew everything was going to be different. Death would come, a reaper would be hiding in every cupboard and poisoning each well, and there would be a grin on Death's narrow face as his eyes shone with glee. The future was set in stone, and it could be described with just a single word. The word for it was breathed in every inch of Gaius' body, repeated until it rattled him to his very bones -

Chaos.

As Uther's arms bled, crimson dripping down his calloused hands and onto the floor, all the physician could imagine was a time when things had been different, when Uther had been happy and when the kingdom had been... calm. A time that had been only a few days ago, the day before Uther's only heir came into the world. Now? Now all of Hell had broken loose, and it poured out with the king's blood.

Uther shuddered in a breath, one that was obviously meant to help him regain control, but instead of succeeding in that goal he choked and started crying. Gaius' heart clenched. For the time being, he wasn't a ruler, he wasn't a father and he wasn't a friend; he was just a broken man who had just lost his wife. A man that knew it was his fault. A man that desperately needed something to hold onto, because he was slipping, falling farther and farther down an endless hole of darkness that would leave him empty, and at this rate, maybe even dead. Arthur needed his father, but Uther couldn't see that he needed his son, nor that his son needed him. All he could see was an ocean of hurt and a world of guilt.

Uther's frame jolted as he sobbed, and Gaius, his expression one of resignation and concealed sorrow, pulled the king into an embrace. _I wish it had never happened._

"It was Nimueh," Gaius found himself saying, planting a seed that he never knew he could be the destruction of them all, "Not you, Sire. You didn't realize."

"I've done this," Uther cried, his voice wet with emotion, "Gaius..."

Gaius clenched his jaw before loosening it in order to reply. "It was she, not you. You musn't blame yourself - and you musn't do this again, my lord. Your son needs you, he needs you alive." With that, Gaius seized Uther's hand and pulled it up to the light, the torches providing enough to show Uther his handiwork. Slices zigzagged over pale skin, both narrow and wide, deep and shallow. The king yanked his arm back to his chest, effectively hiding the cuts.

The physician nearly moved away when Uther's face morphed into one of pure, unhindered hatred, showing the kind of anger and disdain that causes a face to grow hideous and hair to turn grey in only moments.

 **"It wasn't me.** "

Gaius felt a chill run down his spine. This wasn't the reaction he had expected, though it should have been.

"It was Nimueh. It was _magic._ "

Swallowing, Gaius opened his mouth to argue, but he wasn't allowed to get that far.

"I...I will _purge_ the evil from their veins. No one... no one will ever feel what I feel. Not again. Never again, Gaius."

 **Present**

Gaius pushed away the rude memory and made his way to the door, a weight pushing down on his shoulders. He was old and he was tired, and someday this life would no longer suit him. With all of the things that he had seen, all of the wrongs he had done and all of the choices he had made, he could think back on only one moment that brought him happiness without an added sense of _wrong_ \- a bumbling, raven-haired boy walking into his chambers and saving his life. Everything else in his life could become obsolete. Nothing else seemed to give him such a feeling of _right_. Other than, of course, his profession.

He stepped out into the hallway, glad to see the guards still standing around, looking hopelessly lost.

"There is a chance the king will not recover," he broke the silence and didn't soften the blow. "You must find Prince Arthur. If the king dies, we have no one else. Arthur is our only hope."

The two knights looked scared - they were new to this, no doubt. Otherwise they would be well accustomed to the way things tended to be in Camelot. They nodded, about to turn and leave until Gaius spoke again, saying, "Oh - and take Sir Gwaine with you, as well as Sir Percival and Sir Lancelot. I'm sure now that they're healed they will like to get out." Though he wanted to tell them to make sure that _Arthur's manservant_ came home too, he couldn't. Besides, Merlin always found his way back.

With any luck, he wouldn't stop that habit now.


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N: Your support is wonderful as always, and I thank you for the favorites, follows and reviews!**

 **Mersan123: Since you weren't logged in I'm just replying here, sorry-zes... Yes! It is a thought! A thought that came to me among many other jumbled ones. *Grins* Many you're welcomes. (Can I say that? Sure I can.)**

 **I hope you enjoy, every fanfiction author puts quite a bit into their stories. *Sunshine-smile***

 **Also, neck-reining which I mention here is just how Colin tends to ride - one hand.**

* * *

Percival winced as the horse's movements aggravated his wounds, although Merlin had already healed them for the most part. Merlin. A warlock. He didn't even know what to think about that, but possibly more intriguing was the thought that Arthur knew about his powers - how long had he known, had he been keeping it a secret from his father or had he just discovered this? Not that it would change Percival's life too much, but, it was a thought that crossed his mind.

The other knights rode beside, in front and behind Percival and his steed. They had checked all around the citadel and had gone out from there, going in circles that grew wider with each pass around Camelot's castle and the towns around it. While it wasn't the optimal way to go about finding the prince, it was perhaps the only way that could be efficient enough, but, if there was a way they could figure out where exactly it was that the royal had gone, that would be perfect. It wouldn't happen, but once again, it was another thought that crossed Percival's brain.

Gwaine seemed to be having the time of his life - although, he often seemed that, even when he was unhappy. Actually, not true. His displeasure would take up every inch of his face until any and every passerby that laid eyes on him would know just how irritated he was with a situation. But, he was talkative, and by talkative Percival meant he could be a downright blabber-mouth.

"...I don't suppose anyone has a guess to what I did next?"

Lancelot groaned as a miserable reply, though as surprise passed his expression it became obvious that he hadn't meant to let the sound come out. His lips twitched up in a smile. "Perhaps you chewed the bandits' ears off."

The other man ignored his comment, "Anyway, I..." Before he finished, Percival interrupted,

"Talked them to sleep?"

Gwaine swung his hair around, and in effect his hair as well, "Ha, ha."

Before the conversation progressed, one of the guards that Gaius had asked to go find the prince looked ahead and apparently saw their goal, because his face lit up like a campfire at sunset. No doubt he was just glad that the endless prattle and banter that he had excluded himself from would finally end. Percival followed his finger when he pointed forward. There, as though just having gone on some kind of quest and nothing was off about their current circumstances at all, Arthur, Merlin and Leon rode by a dried-up stream, the prince laughing about one thing or another and his servant talking, absent-minded, while neck-reining his horse, and Leon shaking his head as if he truly couldn't believe their current topic.

Gwaine, never one to be patient, drove his heels into his horse's sides and in response got a gallop, though it was a rather sudden, jerky one. He shot out ahead and the other soon joined him, their approach drawing the other small group's attention. From where Percival was, he could see an odd smile growing on Arthur's face, one of disbelief and happiness at seeing the familiar faces of some of his knights.

When they reached the other men, Percival was the first to slow his Friesian horse, the animal's large hooves thudding in the soft grass and tearing up clumps of brown-green. Gwaine was the first to call out,

"Merlin!" He grinned and raised his chin, moving one hand up in a wave-like greeting. "Your Highness." He did not, however, greet or acknowledge Leon in any way. Percival could understand why, he was going to have the scars to remember that betrayal. All three of them, Gwaine, he and Lancelot, would.

Merlin returned with a smile and made his horse shift her front end to the left so he could be facing the four riders.

Percival beamed jovially, "Uh - Merlin - thank you for," he pointed a thumb over his right shoulder and towards his back, to which Merlin gave a loose shrug, his blue eyes darting to the unknown knight suspiciously. Right. Then they were still keeping that secret for the time being. He also looked at Sir Urso, only momentarily before turning his attention to Prince Arthur, "The king has been injured." It was blunt, but he had never been good at easing into things.

Lancelot picked up his slack, "-gravely injured, Sire. Gaius fears he will not make it. You need to return to Camelot, as the sole heir."

Arthur visibly swallowed. "What happened?" His voice was rock-hard, but a mask. Percival couldn't tell what was under the facade.

"It might be best," Lancelot breathed and bobbed his head, "lord, if Gaius explained the situation himself. I'm sorry you have to come back to this - like this - but the kingdom needs you. So does your father."

The prince chewed on the man's words. Merlin looked sideways at his master, his expression one of unveiled concern and question. Arthur looked down at his horse's neck and seemed to fall into a dazed state, that is, until his servant leaned towards him and spoke, "...Arthur?" After that, the royal snapped into a taller sitting position and squared his shoulders.

"Thank you, Sir Lancelot." Arthur asked Llamrei forward and took the lead, dropping into a forced silence. Well, forced on Gwaine's part. That knight hung back with Merlin and immediately started talking about one thing or another, and Merlin listened half-heartedly, most of his attention directed at Arthur's retreating back. Percival noticed these things, but he said nothing. He wasn't one for words, not really. He was content to listen and talk only when he had something to add.

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When Uther seized, Gaius had very few options. Usually, he had Merlin or Gwen or a guard to help him hold down a thrashing patient while he treated them, but today, no such luck. He did his best to hold down the king's arms, but it was a pitiful attempt and it was one that ended with him sprawling on his backside when a fist slammed his chin up toward the roof. With a wince, a grunt and a pained breath, he drew himself up from the floor and tried to hold down his friend as the man lashed out, his teeth barred and his eyes rolling up into the back of his skull.

Then he went terrifyingly still.

For a moment, Gaius reverted to a time before he was a physician - to a time when this moment would have torn his heart apart, watching a friend go through such an ordeal. But he was no longer that man. He quickly snapped out of that state and put his ear to Uther's chest, listening for any signs of life. There were none. He picked up a mirror from one of the shelves not far from where he stood and then returned to the cot, putting it just under the king's nose. He had no breath.

Gaius, his legs suddenly numb, lowered himself onto the seat beside the bed, his eyes never leaving Uther's still form. He tried to swallow, but the natural action turned into a cacophony of gulps and teeth-grinding noises.

Just like that, the king was dead.

Uther had killed himself.

For a moment, Gaius thought that he might need to give himself something to keep the nausea at bay, but he swiftly replaced his bitter emotions with a stone cold persona.

How was he going to explain this to Arthur?


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N: I know, I know, it's probably been about four months and I'm terrible, just don't hunt me down with pitchforks and what-have-you please... And a note, the quotes are from a 15th century ballad and they're what the people are singing later on at the funeral, it's glossed over so I am just pointing that out here...**

"O fare ye weel, my lady dear!  
And put aside your sorrow;  
For if I gae, I'll sune return  
Frae the bonny banks o' Yarrow." _,_

 _Creaking - the creaking of a rope being pulled taut. Choking - gasping breaths forced in through a collapsing throat, hindered. Hindered by the rope. A figure was being pulled up by the neck onto a wooden beam, a stake set in the middle of an empty courtyard. Arthur noted a cart, filled with mildewed hay, abandoned a mere five feet away from the writhing form. There was a body the color of grey, stark against the yellow straw. The hanging man grasped at the material around his neck, his trembling, bruised, slender fingers trying to slip under the noose. Dark blue eyes were blind with fear._

 _Sir Leon held the other end of the rope, the knight's expression stony as he pulled the neckerchief-wearing form, the servant,_ Merlin _, Arthur's mind supplied, higher and closer to his death._

 _Arthur took a step toward the old cart, and another step, one foot in front of the other, until he stood above it. He stared down at the corpse. It was Uther._

 _Merlin's strangled cry through the hangman's noose dug the pit deeper inside of him._

The prince woke, sweating.

The moon was still in the place of the sun, filtering light through his window.

For a terrible moment he couldn't remember what was real.

If he had just woken up or fallen asleep.

"I dreamt a dream last night," she says,  
"I wish it binna sorrow;  
I dreamt I pu'd the heather green  
Wi' my true love on Yarrow."

 **A day prior**

His skin was the color of ash. By the time Arthur and his party had arrived back in Camelot, the king was already... gone. The prince had taken his hand. His hand had been ice. Uther's wrists were shredded, the skin stitched poorly back together, still revealing the deep-red shades underneath. Arthur would later swear that Merlin had said something to him, and he had replied, but for the life of him he couldn't remember what that short conversation had been about. He had left the physician's chambers. The kingdom was without leadership.

Several times the knights had approached him, asking what he wanted to do, when he wanted to have the funeral for the monarch. For his father. He didn't want to think, didn't want to recognize the damned word that would solidify the past months, and thankfully it was refusing to come into his mind, even though it would come at his command; he would never command it. He couldn't. He didn't want to realize. He wanted to sleep.

"I'll read your dream, sister," he says,  
"I'll read it into sorrow;  
Ye're bidden go take up your love,  
He's sleeping sound on Yarrow."

Arthur hadn't seen anything of his manservant ever since they had returned. He hadn't thought much of it up until that point. In recent times, the warlock had been the only person Arthur felt he trusted anymore. Now, in one of the worst moments of his life, there was no one beside him - whatever pieces were left of his heart shriveled a little more.

"She's torn the ribbons frae her head  
That were baith braid and narrow;  
She's kilted up her lang claithing,  
And she's awa' to Yarrow."

Another day he woke from more dreams, dreams that were mixed with such reality he questioned just how much of it was true.

He still couldn't bring the word to his mind. It was the word that couldn't be spoken.

He had to.

The kingdom was counting on him, now, and with that realization a sudden pang of self came back into his chest.

Maybe, just maybe, if he could convince himself that he needed to stand for his people, that it would be an act worth doing, he could stand on his own two feet again. He could make himself command the word he so dreaded. He would stop dreaming.

He could feel alive again.

"She's ta'en him in her arms twa,  
And gi'en him kisses thorough;  
She sought to bind his mony wounds,  
But he lay dead on Yarrow."

There was a knock on his door, but he didn't answer. In truth, he was sure plenty of people had come to his chambers in the last few days and he hadn't even noticed them. But this person was different. This person's knocking was insistent and incorrigible, it was a person who was demanding to be heard, which, in his bleary opinion, they didn't have the right to demand anything from him. Not now. But demand they did.

And barge in they did.

And talk cheerily to him they did.

And force him out of bed they did.

The gall.

He was a grieving man. He would be the king.

"...Get your over-sized arse out of bed, Sire... The gods. You look like an unladen goat. Is that a beard? I'm afraid it doesn't suit you."

For the first time in a week, he spoke - or yelled, though it came out in a banshee's scream from disuse of his vocal chords - " _Mer_ lin!"

"O haud your tongue," her father says,  
"And let be a' your sorrow;  
I'll wed you to a better lord  
Than him ye lost on Yarrow."

The pyre burned away another chunk of his soul. He watched the white cloth that concealed his father catch fire, flames lapping up what they should never be able to have, what they should never be allowed to consume but consumed nevertheless.

Arthur was vaguely aware of his manservant's presence by his side, and of a shoulder brushing against his own.

The people sang a ballad, a ballad that drove spikes through him. They were mourning their king. A word tickled the back of his mind - the word that couldn't be hidden, not forever.

"O haud your tongue, father," she says,  
"Far warse ye mak' my sorrow;  
A better lord could never be  
Than him that lies on Yarrow."

He hadn't realized he was crying until he felt wetness on his cheeks. He rubbed a hand over his face.

Mere hours would pass before the ceremonies would begin and he would take his father's place, whether he was ready to or not. The next morning Gaius would find their new king sleeping on one of the medical cots. No one would ever speak of this again, but that would be the first night in some time that Arthur had no nightmares. In the coming days, Arthur would re-appoint Merlin as his manservant, officially. Sir Leon was welcomed back as a knight of Camelot, and Arthur, with every intention of making good on his promise to Merlin that had been made some weeks ago while living inside the very man's head, would discuss with the advisers and the council the ban on magic being lifted.

It was all so much of a blur that no one could recount all of the happenings - everyone was living day-by-day, hoping to make it to the sunset each time they saw the sunrise.

It wasn't until a month later that it would sink in.

She kiss'd his lips, she kaim'd his hair,  
As aft she had dune before, O;  
And there wi' grief her heart did break,  
Upon the banks o' Yarrow.

"My father... killed himself."

The admittance had Merlin halting his current task, which had been chasing a mouse through his master's chamber with a broom. The young man turned, swallowing before he even tried trusting himself with words. He scraped through every reserve in his mind for something to say, but as it turned out, he didn't have to say a thing. Not yet.

"How..." There was a deep breath. Arthur's back was turned and Merlin watched as he scrubbed a hand over what he assumed was the king's closed eyes. "How in hell am I to forget? How can I be good enough for my people, when I couldn't be good enough for my own father?"

Merlin gnawed on the inside of his cheek, his expression uncharacteristically somber. "Arthur. Your people will see how you stood up, not how you fell." When Arthur turned halfway around, Merlin took it as a good sign and continued, "They will admire you for your strength. They need to see strength now. You don't have to forget, to forget is to run from facing the truth - you have to accept it and keep going anyway."

"He... Died. My father is dead."

Merlin didn't see why, but the statement visibly lifted some invisible weight from the monarch's shoulders.

Death is the word that cannot be said. But it is the word that has to be said.

Death is the word that cannot be hidden. But it is the word that must be revealed.

Merlin wrung his hands around the broom stick, but when he spoke, it was with absolute certainty and confidence, " _Good_ things are going to happen, Arthur. Nothing will be the same - it's going to be better."

 **Thank you all for sticking with me, I hope you enjoyed this last chapter and the whole fic overall!**


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